


Sight

by AndeliaMaddock



Series: For the Birds [2]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Bird seed, Bondage, Cleaning, Consensual Sex, Creampie, Drinking, Edging, Heavy Bondage, Kissing, Legion loses, M/M, Mind Games, Oral Sex, Ownership, Power Play, Rape, Rough Sex, bathtime, muddy sex, non-consensual anal sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-28 08:31:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11414115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndeliaMaddock/pseuds/AndeliaMaddock
Summary: “We won!” It’s not subtle, but neither is Thatcher. He runs up, arms out, ready to lift someone up in a hug. Jackson, with the mustache a mile long, is the lucky guy, despite inches of height and pounds of weight over Thatcher.Jackson’s grin splits his face and looks good doing it. “We won!” He calls it back, like an echo.We won.Boone doesn’t hold in his own grin. Years lost, men lost, but they won. His laughter joins the others, and he reaches out and tugs the closest one into a hug as well.Men cry, but no one talks about that. Boone cries and he won’t mention it later.Fox holds him in a hug. He’s smaller, but his grip is tight and the tears are real. Boone knows him well enough to know. He can feel the wetness on his own shirt. He’s felt that wetness before.---This is not a happy story. This is not a fair story. These characters do not happy healthy heal one another.But they're flawed individuals who make do with what they have. Unfortunately for both of them, that's only each other.WELL NOW THERE IS A SEQUEL COMING, SORRY FOLKS, THAT COMMENT GOT ME THINKING.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read part one of the series, it is my sincere suggestion that you do so. It's possible to read it without, but not something I recommend.

“We won!” It’s not subtle, but neither is Thatcher. He runs up, arms out, ready to lift someone up in a hug. Jackson, with the mustache a mile long, is the lucky guy, despite inches of height and pounds of weight over Thatcher.  
  
Jackson’s grin splits his face and looks good doing it. “We won!” He calls it back, like an echo.  
  
We won.  
  
Boone doesn’t hold in his own grin. Years lost, men lost, but they won. His laughter joins the others, and he reaches out and tugs the closest one into a hug as well.  
  
Men cry, but no one talks about that. Boone cries and he won’t mention it later.  
  
Fox holds him in a hug. He’s smaller, but his grip is tight and the tears are real. Boone knows him well enough to know. He can feel the wetness on his own shirt. He’s felt that wetness before.  
  
He holds Fox back. He breathes in that scent. Rich earth, sweat, and that distinct musk that rises up and makes him hot as the desert sun. He pulls back, nods, and smacks another man on the shoulders as they pass. He doesn’t even recognize who it is from the back. It doesn’t matter, they’re all feeling the same.  
  
“What else do the reports say?” Fox asks it to the crowd, in that same curious manner he asks anything.  
  
“Caesar’s head rolled down the slope in front of his own fucking tent! Lanius fell to the NCR assault! The Legion’s falling back, but they’re being cut down. All their leaders are dead.”  
  
Someone cracks a bottle open. Caps clicking off bottles increases until it’s a chorus that almost drowns out the men and their laughter and tears.  
  
Someone hands him a beer and he wipes his eyes enough to see it’s Killinger.  
  
His face is always so open, so honest. Here, it is wet and wide and he smiles with those bright teeth and those dark eyes. “Fox, you want a beer?” He offers it over in one hand and wipes his eyes with the other.  
  
Fox glances over. He tilts his head in that question way he has.  
  
Boone nods without fully looking. No need to draw attention to things now. Not that anyone would care, not that anyone pays that close of attention.  
  
Fox accepts the beer with a smile and he pulls Killinger into a hug as well. “Thank you.”  
  
“You’re welcome.” Killinger smiles and then turns to Boone. “I’m glad you two were here. How could we party without you?” Both rows of white teeth show, he smiles so big. His cheeks rise and his eyes crinkle.  
  
Fox has a similar expression around the eyes, though his smile is quieter.  
  
“I’m glad we’re here too. With all the yelling, I’d have had to come down anyway with my rifle to make sure Legion didn’t invade.” He says it without looking at Vulpes.  
  
Vulpes doesn’t look at him. He sips his beer and looks at everyone else, as though he’s suddenly not interested in what’s right there in front of him.  
  
Killinger steps in, “You’re not leaving right away, are you? We’re probably going to have a party or something and I bet everyone would like it if you two stayed.”  
  
Fox glances over, then sips his beer. “I personally would like to stay.”  
  
Boone sips his beer as well. He nods once, twice, then a final time. “Yeah, we’ll stay.”  
  
“Lots of work in the morning though. The maize should finally be ready, and we wouldn’t want all those birds around to get to the crop before we do.” Fox steps closer. He smiles.  
  
“No, we wouldn’t. We’ll stay for a bit.” Boone nods an actual final time. They’d stayed the night before, once, and it had gone decently. He doesn’t want to push that though.  
  
\---~~~---  
  
Fox hands him a beer and gets a bit closer than he usually does in front of the others.  
  
Boone grins up from his seat and gets a bit closer too, strokes their face. It’s just one touch, and he pulls back a moment later to reach for the bottle cap opener.  
  
Fox hands the opener over from his own pocket, “Sorry, you let me use it.”  
  
“No problem.” He nods and cracks the third or more beer open and swallows it down. “Come sit.”  
  
“The bonfire feels nice.” Fox leans in.  
  
Not too much, but enough Boone can smell him again, even over the earthy scent of the kindling and the sharp scent of the bonfire smoke. He leans back and glances down at Fox’s half empty. “It does.”  
  
“Should we go soon? Things seem to be calming down.”  
  
“Yeah, probably.” He looks up at the evening sky. He can’t see all the way to the battle, but he knows it's smokier and redder than the bonfire is. He remembers how battles went.  
  
Boone finishes his beer and sets it aside. “Might have one for the road.”  
  
“Are you sure?”  
  
Boone blinks. He glances over and arches a brow. “I’m sure. I know how to drink. Unlike the Legion.”  
  
“They can drink in Hell!” Someone shouts it. Someone’s fist rises up, even over the bonfire.  
  
Cheers all around.  
  
Vulpes looks nervous.  
  
For once, Boone doesn’t really blame him. Too bad though. “No, they’d probably still stay loyal to Caesar. No moral dissolution for them!”  
  
“Fuck ‘em!” A beer cracks.  
  
“I’ll dissolute all I want!” Two or three bottles clink together.  
  
Laughter bubbles up and bursts then rolls back down like ashes on the wind.  
  
Fox beside him looks more nervous than before. He finishes off his beer and sets it beside Boone’s.  
  
Maybe he still has some mercy left in him after all this time. Boone reaches out and tugs Fox in loosely under his arm. “Grab me another beer and then I’m ready.”  
  
Fox’s shoulders do that little shake, he sucks in a breath, then he nods and pulls himself away from the crowd.  
  
Killinger moves up close to him and perches where Fox had been. “You’re going then?”  
  
He nods and glances over in silence. “Long walk ahead.”  
  
“What’s it like?”  
  
“What’s what like?” He thinks he knows.  
  
“Having a farm, and a house, and a…” He shrugs and his face turns towards the bonfire. “Friend.”  
  
He knows he’s been clocked that way, right or wrong, by almost everyone. He doesn’t really care, but then there’s a kid asking. Soldier or not, the guy never saw combat in the NCR, he wasn’t fully grown even if long legs said otherwise.  
  
Boone shrugs again, an effortless move he’s done enough it’s unconscious. He’s still aware of it though.  
  
“I want that, someday.”  
  
“Then get the hell away from the Mojave. Don’t stay around here even, go West.”  
  
“You think so? But you stayed.”  
  
He takes the beer from Fox without a word. He goes to crack it. It’s open. He glances to Fox to his right.  
  
Killinger on his left leans closer, “How come you stayed?”  
  
“I have history here.” He sips the beer. “A lot of history.”  
  
Well, even he lies sometimes. It’s not on purpose, but one more beer turns to a few more and the skies turn darker, rich violets seep into navy. A few more turns to a lot more.  
  
He stumbles up to take a piss but feels like a brahmin calf and nearly falls over his own damn feet.  
  
Fox catches him, strokes his back, “Perhaps we should stay a bit longer?”  
  
Fuck. He really should go though. They can’t stay, not…  
  
Boone falls onto his ass, then slumps onto his back. The last thing he sees is that soft tilt to Fox’s head, and a dim smile, shadowed by the bonfire behind.  
  
\---~~~---  
  
“And there’s the maize.”  
  
“It’s so tall!”  
  
“Well, of course. Have you seen it before?”  
  
“Yeah, but I never paid much attention.”  
  
“I haven’t tried this kind yet, but we’ve kept the pests at bay and it’s in the right conditions. If the maize is good at all, ours should be excellent.”  
  
Boone blinks awake. He shuts his eyes immediately, blocks out the light. Outside the window, he hears them talk plainly.  
  
“And what are those?”  
  
“Those are potatoes. We use a lot of those for just about everything. They’re fairly easy to grow, even when the dirt is poor, though ours isn't.”  
  
“Oh, you just… you dig them up?”  
  
“Yes. You’ve… not seen potatoes?”  
  
“Like I said, I guess probably I have? But this is just… this is so cool. You put stuff in the ground and then it just comes right up. I thought they’d grow up higher though.”  
  
“No, they’re tubers, they grow in the ground. You know, they’re actually in the nightshade family.”  
  
“I don’t know what that is.”  
  
“That’s alright. It’s just interesting. I’ve learned so much since coming here. Things I never even imagined I’d find useful.”  
  
Boone sits upright, so very slowly. His head might cave in. He turns, grunts, and rubs at his temples.  
  
A bottle of unopened water sits on the nightstand, along with a plate of hashbrowns and eggs.  
  
Food. He definitely needs food. Hands grab the plate and he’s only half-disappointed when he realizes it’s gone cold. He still scarfs it down and drinks half the water. He wouldn’t mind a smidge of healing powder on his forehead either, to release some of the-- oh. There’s a thimbleful right there by the lamp.  
  
He smears a bit of the orange powder in and lays back in the bed. This is what he gets for getting older, drinking less, and then bingeing. He deserves this.  
  
“Yes, just throw it like that.”  
  
“They just come right up and eat it?”  
  
“I know you’ve seen birds before, Killinger. It’d be impossible for you to not have.”  
  
“Obviously. But I never went out of my way to feed them. Couldn’t you eat these seeds yourself? Why do the birds get it?”  
  
“Well, we could, but some of the seeds are poisonous to humans. It wouldn’t be pleasant. In fact, one seed, in particular, causes some rather unpleasant effects. Vomiting, nausea, loosening of the--”  
  
“Ok, alright, yeah, feed the birds. Do you… eat them?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“We do harvest their eggs though. I usually leave one per nest.”  
  
“Yeah? How come?”  
  
“One has to plan ahead to succeed. Short-term goals can’t come ahead of long-term ones.”  
  
He darts from the bed and rushes to the bathroom. He controls himself, but only enough to make it.  
  
It’s been years since his body has betrayed him like this.  
  
He glances to Fox beside him, and up at Killinger in the doorway. “Can’t a man get some privacy?”  
  
“Here’s some water.” Fox pets through Boone’s cropped hair. “I was about to walk Killinger down the path. Should I wait?”  
  
He takes a deep breath, then shakes his head. “Just… just a bit of the way.”  
  
They’re both all smiles before they leave.  
  
He’s never going to smile again. Or drink.  
  
He sips the water. He rests his head against the back rim of the toilet seat.  
  
He hears Fox. Distantly, he hears them both laugh.  
  
Bird seeds weren’t poisonous, were they? He’s never bothered to check, but Fox sure likes reading the bag, and reading the books, and…  
  
Another bout of shame, another bout of sickness. He grunts and keeps his warm head pressed to the cool rim.  
  
When he finally blinks his eyes open, there’s a soothing wet washrag right there, dangling from Fox's hand.  
  
“Maybe we should get you a bath.”  
  
He squints at the rag, then up at Fox. “I can bathe myself.”  
  
And they’re just so innocent, with hands up and eyes wide. “Of course, I didn’t mean to imply--”  
  
“Killinger, he’s gone?”  
  
“Yes. I saw him off.”  
  
“Good. He’s a good kid. He shouldn’t be up here. You shouldn’t have let him come.”  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
He almost expects all the excuses on top. ‘You needed to leave’. ‘You must be too drunk to remember what happened.’ Others, probably.  
  
He grunts and pushes up from the floor with sweaty palms. “What seasonings did you put in the potatoes?”  
  
“Salt and pepper. Like you like.”  
  
He hadn’t tasted anything different. But Vulpes was a tricky one.  
  
Fox looks to him with that concerned little tilt and those soft pretty eyes. “Do you need more healing powder? You look… ghostly pale.”  
  
“Was there something in the water?”  
  
“I didn’t open it, I don’t believe. If there is, I didn’t put it there.”  
  
He settles against the wall, shoulders pressed back and feet spread apart. He tries to steady himself, but the world spins.  
  
Fox steps into sight. He faces Boone directly on.  
  
“Of course. That healing powder probably isn’t making you feel very good right now, Boone. You should lie down.”  
  
He blinks, and his back slides against the wall until he’s looking up at Vulpes. “You… poisoned me.”  
  
“No. I drugged you. Last night. Just now. I was undecided at first, but this morning you were rather rude and I made the powder up just for you while I cooked your breakfast.” He leans in, so their faces nearly touch. “If you resist, I’m only a few minutes’ run from Killinger. It certainly would be sad if he spent as much time as I did down in the basement.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“And then, of course, I could always turn him into plant food, since he’s so interested in knowing what life on this farm is like. The crops really are coming in nicely…” He taps his chin, then his face blossoms open into a smile. Everything shifts and bends around him, but his face remains in focus.  
  
“Don’t.”  
  
“I like him though. He’s polite. I don’t actually want to hurt him.”  
  
Boone slumps over to the right side. He tries to keep his gaze on Vulpes, but he can’t sit upright. He can’t control anything.  
  
“You, on the other hand, have no such luck. I want _very much_ to hurt you.”  
  
Boone lies down. He falls asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Choices.

 

He feels cold. Wet. Heavy, despite what he realizes is water around him.

“Oh, are you awake?” Vulpes glances over from his spot perched on the toilet lid. “Good. I worried I put too much seed in.”

He is heavier than he should be. Shackles bite into numb limbs. “Nope. I’m fine.”

“Fine? Are you? You look a bit under the weather still. And you made such a mess.”

He remembers things better than most would think. He knows what Vulpes is referring to. He won’t rise to the bait.

Boone shrugs. “Drunk people do. So do poisoned ones.”

“No more poisoned than you did me. Surely you can appreciate the symmetry of this?”

He nodded. “Right back around, full circle. I guess I had this coming.”

That look of exasperation is priceless. He’d hang that on his walls if he didn’t already have the perfect pictures up. They’d hung them together.

“Yes, you certainly did.” Irritation grows into rage. It’s not hard to see in eyes like that. Then Vulpes breathes, slow and even, and nods. “I’m glad you understand.”

Well, yeah. He’d be an idiot to not. But he nods again, feeds into whatever torment Vulpes is putting himself through. “I can’t really blame you.”

That’s the switch. Vulpes stands and reaches up towards the shower bin, pulls out the bar of soap.

He expects it in his mouth. Turnabout was fair play and all that, though, he hadn’t really lied so it didn’t quite fit.

Instead, Vulpes reaches in and wets the soap, then rubs it along his spine. It feels almost pleasant. It feels definitely pleasant.

Well. He couldn’t really be mad. He wasn’t, really, though something big brewed in him and he didn’t know what it was.

Boone relaxes against the touches when they go around to his chest.

“Docile already? That doesn’t seem like you.”

“I can’t stop you.” He can’t hear their teeth grit over the swish of the water, but he can see just the slightest clench and sideways jaw movement.

“No resistance? No--” Vulpes pushes the soap down between Boone’s legs. “Anything at all? Surely some part of you will rise to the occasion.”

“Probably.” He feels it rising already. The water wasn’t that cold. It was about room temperature, now that he adjusted to it. He’s a man, and there’s a hand right on his dick. That’s just life.

He also can’t hear the steam shooting out from those ears like the whistle of a teakettle, but if that were possible, he would. He glances over and nods.

Those eyes narrow. Vulpes leans in. “You’ve tricked me often enough, it won’t work here.”

“You’re right. You’re in control.”

Vulpes takes a deep breath.

Boone can smell that musk, softer against the backdrop of unpleasant smells and soap. “Or do you want me fighting?”

“I could break a man like you easily.”

“Well, you do have practice at it.”

Vulpes stands. He tugs Boone up by the neck and pulls him from the tub in a quick, violent motion. “Bathtime’s over.”

He follows along as well as he can, but his legs are slippery, his ankles chained together and connected to his wrists, and Vulpes doesn’t exactly go slowly. He only barely manages to stay upright long enough to get out of the wet bathroom and follow along into the bedroom.

On the bed, he stares down the length of the mattress at Vulpes.

His body feels woozy enough, still, that he’s certain he can’t just rush them. Besides that, he’d miss out on all those expressions. The guy had the worst poker face.

Vulpes looks to him. All the facial shifts finally settle. Determination mixed with a smug little flair.

That’s probably not the look he wants. Boone wants to look away because, yep, that’s definitely not the look he wants when he’s the one chained up. But he remains transfixed.

Vulpes moves over him, with smooth jeans pressed up against Boone’s bare hips and pelvis. “I’m going to take you.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

“But I’m going to give you a choice.”

Choices. Sometimes those weren’t good things. “Alright.”

“I can take you gently, for what’s no doubt your first time being entered. I could go like you did. Make your body respond slowly, _delicately_. Make you open up and want everything, even as you _scream_ against it in your mind.”

Oh.

“Or I can take you how so very much of me wants to. Over a year of pent up aggression, of bitter sadism, it’s right here in me. You won’t find it pleasant, but at least it’ll hurt so much you won’t have to worry that your body will respond against your mind’s wishes. That is, until it does anyway. _You’re_ the type that would.”

Oh no.

Sometimes he hates making choices. He made most all of the choices for a long time, but these ones both sound pretty awful, especially said like that.

Still. “First one sounds better.”

“Say it. Tell me what you want.”

Oh for fucks… Boone sighs. “I’d like the hard mindfuck over the hard body one.”

That look is far more threatening than the one before, but Boone can’t quite place it. “Then I’ll make you moan like Carla did.”

Yeah, he places the look just fine now, thank you. Boone grunts and rolls as hard as he can to tip them off.

Like a real chump, Vulpes holds on easily, clutches him by the shackles and forces him down. “Now now, Boone. I thought you wanted that. You asked for it by name even.”

Calm. Just calm. It wouldn’t help. He pants and stills beneath that smug jackass. “Another comment about--”

“Carla, now she really was nice looking.” Vulpes grinds his bulge down against Boone’s flat stomach. “And with how readily she surrendered, she’d have been an excellent slave. Maybe even the type--”

“You shut your fucking--”

“That I might have bid on. After that pesky fetus was disposed of.”

He rises, fast and hard, exactly as the occasion calls for. His forehead slams to Vulpes’. They both fall back.

He sleeps.

He wakes up to his hands chained to the steel bedposts and Vulpes’ body above his, settled right in on his ass. He turns his head to look up at them, but the angle is awkward and he just keeps his head tucked to the side, face down in the pillow.

Boone shifts his feet, attempts to gain a bit of leverage with his legs this time. But no. His feet are chained to the posts at the bottom. He’s not surprised. He’d gotten the bed for this exact reason, only to have Vulpes in this position instead.

“Comfortable?” That voice mocks in a singsong, despite being just a few syllables.

Boone grunts and shifts a bit. “Not really.”

“Good. I did offer you a choice. Maybe it wasn’t much more than two bad ones, but it was there.” Vulpes’ thumbs and clawlike fingers spread Boone’s cheeks. His hips press forward, until that thickness Boone had gotten so used to handling presses up and knocks for entrance.

Vulpes doesn’t wait for a response. Vulpes opens Boone up and goes right in.

He does not cry. He’s been through far worse pain. Infinitely worse pain. He's been shot and slashed and bludgeoned. This is not nearly as bad as that, says his body, and he shuts his mind up quick.

Boone grunts and focuses on breathing like they told him to in combat training. It feels like ages ago he was a green soldier with a fresh face like Killinger. It was ages ago. But he’s kept that training.

Don’t panic. Keep focused on something besides the pain. Breathe. Do not stop breathing, do not breathe too quickly. Apply pressure to the wound didn’t really work, but he remembered it too. They meant for machete slashes and gunshot wounds, not getting the last shred of ‘innocence’ his body had left ripped away.

“This hurts me too, you know.” Vulpes leans in, offers a consolatory tone. It’s false. The kisses are real though, pressed hot against Boone’s neck. “You’re the tightest thing I’ve ever had. Even Carla.”

He attempts to buck back, hit them with his skull a second time.

Vulpes laughs. He saw it coming clearly, and moves back just in time. “Oh, Boone. Go ahead and fight. I like it. You have no _idea_ how many times I…” Vulpes increases his thrusts, pushes deeper and faster, “I thought of doing this to soothe myself to sleep.”

It hurts enough he does cry. He won’t mention it.

“Are those sniffles? Are you sobbing?”

Maybe. Damn it. The choice was bullshit anyway. Even getting hard-fucked right into the mattress, he still feels his head getting twisted around. “Fuck off, Vulpes.” It’s a mistake.

Vulpes turns his head, presses kisses to his eyelids. “Poor thing.” Those thrusts keep right on, as though everything was normal.

Boone seals his eyes shut. The choice was bullshit, but Vulpes hadn’t lied about that last bit. Despite himself, he feels his dick twitch with pleasure. Despite the pain, something pulls.

Vulpes’ leans back and positions Boone so his legs spread out more. “That’s it. Just lay there. I don’t mind doing all the work. It’s what I’ve been doing around here anyway.”

He grunts at that. Say whatever, but that was a plain lie. “Yep. I just…” It hurts, those thrusts are harder, meant to silence him, “sit around on my ass all day.”

“You won’t want to after this.”

“Fuck you, Vulpes. I do at least half the work. I’d say… more.”

It hurts, but there’s a satisfaction in making Vulpes go harder. There’s definitely a satisfaction in that irritated tone too. If Vulpes could get inside him, he could get inside Vulpes’ skin.

He grits his teeth and he focuses on that sensation. His teeth are loud enough, he doesn’t have to focus on his thoughts, or what happens behind him.

Vulpes spanks him then.

Teeth part and he pulls his lip up into a sneer. He wants to say something, but he’s not got the focus. Come on, Boone. This is what training was for. “You’re just mad… that you know I’m right.”

“I do the cooking, I plant the seeds, I water the crops--”

“I do all the repairs, I harvest the crops, and I--” This is so fucking stupid. This is the stupidest argument he’s ever gotten into. Training said find distractions once safely away from danger (which he wasn’t anyway) not get into eerily domestic arguments.

He laughs. He smashes his face against the pillow and feels his chest quake with the laughter.

No one talks about soldiers who laugh, or cry, when they shouldn’t.

Vulpes laughs too, in several quick bursts. The thrusts don’t slow, but nor do they speed up. Those hands do reach up and stroke through Boone’s hair though and they grope around his neck and shoulders too. “You’re _mine_ , Boone.”

“Yeah, probably.” He doesn’t resist the touches. He can feel those thrusts still, and they’re not tolerable and especially not pleasant, but there’s a certain something in them that makes his body jump.

Vulpes returns over him, lays his body flat over Boone’s back. That musk is so obvious, so close. “You will _always_ be mine.”

Yeah, probably. “Is this the part where we kiss and make up?”

He does not regret the slaps to his ass, the frenzied pace, or the little Latin murmurs he hears that make his skin crawl and tingle in one go. No, he doesn’t regret those because he knows _he won_.

Even when Vulpes pulls out and leaks a mile-long trail of come out Boone’s ass, he’s satisfied he won.

Vulpes could go fuck himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the slow descent into hell.


	3. Chapter 3

 

It’s been a while since he’s been in the basement for anything other than getting cans from the pantry. He looks over and sure enough, Vulpes didn’t try something dumb like moving it up the stairs. Guy would break his back doing that alone. They’d nearly both broken backs putting it down there the first time.

He sort of expected Vulpes to do something then, but that had been six months before and Vulpes had stayed Fox and been good. This was now, and Vulpes was supposed to know better.

At least Vulpes doesn’t insult both of them by trying to be sneaky down the stairs. He just walks down like normal, no stomps, no soft pads. “Good morning.” Vulpes pulls the light chain, lights the room.

“Good morning.” He shifts a bit, tests his chains. Tight. Just like they should be, though these feel a bit tighter than they ever looked on Vulpes. Maybe his wrists and ankles are a bit bigger. A bit more muscular.

So he looks, tries to inspect their limbs too.

“What are you doing?” Vulpes says it almost like when he was Fox, asking questions. It’s not subdued, exactly, but softly curious.

“I’m more muscular than you.”

Vulpes tightens his hands, then releases and lets out a sigh. “Interesting start to things.”

Boone raises the cuffs a bit, though it’s awkward, sat up on his ass with everything chained to everything. “These dig in more than they did on you.”

It got a scoff. Vulpes crouches down with a dim flash of irritation on his face. “You’ve just got a larger frame. You’ll live.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“I’m not risking you in anything less secure than those.”

“Afraid I’ll escape?”

The spot just beneath Vulpes’ nose twitches and his nostrils skirt out a bit, then retract. Lips curl into an unpleasant smile. “Afraid? No. But you’re resourceful. You’d find a way.”

“I could just cut the bullshit and try right now, if you want.”

“Why would I want that?”

“Because you hate tension. _You’re_ squirming and _I’m_ the one in chains.”

The hand on his throat doesn’t surprise either, except that it’s not strong, it’s not forceful. It just squeezes a bit. He can breathe fine.

Vulpes straddles Boone, ignores how uncomfortable it is to have Boone’s arms and wrists forced down by the weight. “I considered a collar for you. I always wondered why you didn’t bother with one for me. You and I both know it wouldn’t be too difficult for you to procure one, even out here.”

“That’s Legion bullshit.”

“I thought as much.” One hand becomes two, and Vulpes practically massages Boone’s neck.

He really does _not_ want a collar. There are things he’s moderately ok with right then, and that is not one of those things. Boone lays still though, stares up at Vulpes.

“Silus used to teach his men to make sure the collars cut in extra deep, so the slaves always remembered who owns them.”

“Didn’t you get that guy crucified?”

Vulpes blinks. For a moment, he loosens his grip. Then it’s back, tighter. “How did you know that? I never said anything.”

Oh. “I think Karl’s the one who said that. Then he said something like ‘When Vulpes finds what you’ve done, you’ll wish you were me.’”

There’s a smirk and Boone isn’t sure if it’s a good thing for him. He hasn’t been on the receiving end of that particular look in a while, he’s rusty on remembering.

“That sounds like him. No personal threats, he always wanted someone else to take care of things for him.” He leans down further, until their foreheads nearly touch. “What else did he say?”

“You have a thing for birds.”

“I don’t have ‘a thing’ for them, I merely used them as--” Narrow slits of eyes, and Vulpes rises a bit. “I see what you’re doing.”

“What?”

“It’s all over your so-called stoic face. You’re trying to distract me.”

“You’re the one asking questions. You want me to answer, right?”

Vulpes removes himself. Up, off Boone entirely, he motions for Boone to rise.

He goes to stand, and he’s knocked down. Fine. He glances up just enough to see their amusement, before he continues to look down at the floor from his position on hands and knees.

The steps are slow. They stop, just behind Boone. “Do you want me to take you hard, or soft?”

He hears an explanation coming, some running monologue he doesn’t care to think about. He says, “If you’re soft, you won’t be able to get it in.” It is not a mistake. He will take what comes, which will be Vulpes.

There’s a breath behind him, like what could turn into a laugh, but falters. “Typical NCR bravado.”

He feels that cock, right up by his asshole. It pokes, it twitches, it slicks him up a bit with pre-come, but it doesn’t go in. It’s soft, way too soft. Just like Boone said.

It grows though, just like it always would when Boone would stroke it and play with it, even as Fox squirmed and murmured needy nothings.

Vulpes. This was Vulpes. And maybe they were both Vulpes, but he didn’t really like the idea that he’d kept Vulpes himself around that whole time. Fox was better. Vulpes was--

It hurts. At first, it’s just a nudge of pain. He tries not to clench, and succeeds, but only barely. He looks at the floor. Some interesting stains there he’s never bothered to look at. Some really interesting stains.

The kiss doesn’t startle. It surprises a bit though. Boone relaxes. That works out for him, when a moment later Vulpes forces the rest in.

He does not cry, but he very much wants to yell. There’s a shout holed up in his throat and he wants to, but he holds it in deeper and focuses on breathing.

He’s been shot by a gun more than once. This doesn’t feel as painful as that, but it feels far more personal. He doesn’t like that.

Vulpes should go for the hips, it would make the thrusts easier for both of them. But no, Vulpes reaches forward and sinks his fingers into the space above the collarbone and uses it like a handhold. “You’ve earned this.”

He knows.

“You’ve earned far more than this.” Vulpes doesn’t speed up, but he goes deeper, forces himself up until pubes grind against asshole. He holds.

For a moment he thinks maybe Vulpes came, but that thought pops and Vulpes pulls out all the way, then slides it all right in.

'Slides' is not the word. Scrapes. There.

He does not cry, but if he did, soldiers don’t really mention it.

So of course, Vulpes does. “Three times crying in one week? All my dreams are answered. I half expect Killinger to come up and declare the Legion actually won.”

He scoffs and looks directly back at them, despite the pain in his neck for the angle. “You really wanted them to win? That wouldn’t do anything _for you_.”

For a moment, he sees Fox again. Or he thinks it. Brains do screwy things when they want something and Boone wants something he won't think too hard on.

Then it’s back to Vulpes, and Boone's face is in those cement stains, and he can’t stop anything that happens but at least he made it happen.

He hates the hand. One hand snakes down from his shoulder and begins to work his cock, and he hates it, and he hates this.

It’s exactly what he would have done and that part just makes him madder. He’s hard in record time. He’s hard and he pants and he pushes back a little because damn it that hand knows what he likes, even if the dick in his ass hurts like hell.

There is that pleasant light, behind the pain, and he hates that worse. That things start to shift and find an equality, that all of the punishment starts to feel good.

He relaxes, he forces himself to relax. Focus on breaths. Focus on something else. Don’t focus on the cock inside or the hand on his cock outside. Don’t focus on--

Vulpes kisses him, on the cheek first, but then he tilts Boone’s head enough that they can kiss properly. That tongue is heaven.

He never minds when Fox kisses him like that. Soft full lips, an eager and quick tongue, and little whispers of moans that grow as Boone works back.

This is Vulpes and he’s not sure how he feels about that. Good, but dirtier than the floor, is what he settles on before he stops thinking at all and just kisses.

He wonders if those frumentarii in the back yard would roll in their graves, seeing how things have gone between them for so long.

The kiss deepens and he’s left with no more thoughts about much at all, besides all the sensations going on in him.

The pain is barely a blip in his mind, compared to everything else. Kisses, moans, strokes, thrusts. He’s alright, this is fine.

When Vulpes bites him and then comes, he’s less fine, but still way better than he was at the start.

Way better enough to come himself a few strokes later, with heavy gasps and a body that slumps forward, spent.

He can feel it, slick inside him. It’s probably got a bit of blood mixed in there. He doesn't feel so great, as the afterglow fades and he realizes what’s happened.

Vulpes pushes him to his side and stands up. “You should get used to me being in charge.”

“Alright.”

That nose twitches again and Vulpes only barely kept his mouth from turning up in irritation as well. “Good. I’m glad we understand one another.”

“So, are you planning to do the maize harvest by yourself, or?”

That’s a Fox look. Like he just forgot a chore and damn is he frustrated he forgot.

The look fades again, back to Vulpes. “I’ll supervise.”

“What a surprise.”

Vulpes kicks him twice in the chest, pulls the light cord, and stomps up the steps--squeaky ones be damned, apparently.

What an asshole.


	4. Chapter 4

 

He hears Vulpes outside.

Vulpes talks to himself sometimes. Boone doesn’t mind. He listens and takes in whatever information he can but usually, it’s not much. Here though, he hears Vulpes and he curls his entire body to listen, but he can’t. All he hears are noises that say Vulpes is being very chatty.

What a surprise. In the last week, Vulpes said far more than he ever had to Boone before. It was incessant, never-ending. He never stopped except when he wanted to switch to another conversation but wasn’t sure how yet.

He pushes down thoughts that go too deep along that mental path.

He doesn’t like to hear it. He doesn’t care if he learns things, or if Vulpes has a silky voice, or if Vulpes gets so excited when he’s saying something new. Boone doesn’t care.

Vulpes gets closer to the window, the one outlet to the world, “Oh, you’re so beautiful.”

Who? Boone was down here and… He panics a bit, sits upright. Maybe Killinger came for a visit? Or even Thatcher? Jones could have too, he’d joked about it more than once, coming up and living the ‘bachelor lifestyle’--complete with a few literal nudges and winks to them both--with Fox and Boone.

There’s one set of footsteps though and Vulpes hasn’t been outside long enough for him to have found someone and come back. Plus, he struggles with carrying a 60-pound bag of dirt for a few hours. There’s no way he’d be able to carry a captive long without help.

Though, Vulpes could-- this is stupid. Vulpes is clearly alone.

Boone is good at waiting. Boone waits, down in his silence in the dark basement.

Vulpes has an energy of excitement. Even in the darkness, Boone can feel it.

The last time he felt that energy, Fox had-- it doesn’t matter. Boone pushes that thought away too and waits. It won’t be long.

Vulpes is at the bottom of the stairs and the light turns on. “You’re going upstairs.”

He doesn’t like the musty scent of the basement anyway, so this suits him. That look though, it unsettles. “Alright.” He keeps his voice as steady as he can.

It’s a foolish thing, being afraid of just an expression. It’s just a face, the face can’t hurt him. But there’s way too much excitement bottled up in Vulpes there.

He shifts onto his knees and glances up. Stand?

“Go on, I don’t have all day. Well. I do. But who wants to wait for what I’ve got planned?”

Boone did.

Boone rises to his feet and steps close. “Lead the way.”

Excitement barely dulls with irritation at Boone’s permission to continue. He turns and goes right back up the steps. “I think you’ll appreciate what I’ve done.”

Appreciate and enjoy are not the same thing. Boone nods to himself and keeps up behind Vulpes, though he’s slower. He’s a bit impressed that Vulpes always managed to be so fast in these, they’re not easy to walk in, much less up a set of stairs.

Hands on his shoulders, Vulpes pushes him a bit out the front door and into the morning sunlight. Birds scatter with little calls and dry flaps.

He sees the old shovel out and a plot that’s sectioned off, just in the right size to bury him. It’s not an original idea, but it gets him sweating. He glances back briefly, but Vulpes pushes at his cheek, forces him to face forward.

“Come on. That’s not yet.”

Yet. Well, you know, he had a good run. He could try to run. It wouldn’t work though, he never was good at running long distances, sprints were more his speed. Besides, being bound wouldn’t help.

They stop in front of the shed.

The Shed.

Boone feels his knees begin to wobble around, like the joint is loose and needs some tightening. He feels the edge of a dry laugh threaten to escape. Well, there are enough tools inside, Vulpes could tighten his joints right back up.

“I never knew of the treasure trove of tools you have inside.” Vulpes opens the door and pulls Boone inside. “I’m going to unchain your feet for a moment. You’re going to lie over that sawhorse.”

There’s a moment of tension. It pulls into several. Boone doesn’t look back at Vulpes, he can only focus on the sawhorse. He made the pantry on it. He’d done any number of projects on it.

He’s going to be tortured on it. A fragment says that’s what he deserves for his past. It's all finally catching up to him and he did this to himself.

He wipes that thought away and turns to Vulpes, “Not likely.”

Vulpes blinks, unimpressed. “Oh?”

“Like fuck am I just gonna take it in my own shed.”

“It’s fine if it’s in your bed?” Smug smiling fuck.

He narrows his eyes.

“I’ll tell you why you’re going to do what I say.”

“Yeah? Why?”

“Because I saw my poster down there, being burned in the bonfire. No one recognized me. But imagine if another poster were to show up, stapled to your back?” He reaches for the upholstery stapler. “You, of course, would be unconscious and tied to a rock or maybe the fence. They don’t watch it as well as they should, we both know that.”

“You’d screw yourself.”

“Maybe. But I could be miles gone by the time they figured it out. You, however, would be in an interesting predicament. What does the NCR do about treason?”

Treason. No, that’s not what it is.

Except. Change the angle a bit, and _yes it is_ , and he knows it is. He should have turned Vulpes in right from the start. He could have been a hero. But that wasn’t enough. He needed more.

“I don’t imagine it’s pleasant. Though it pales in comparison to what the Legion would do, and we both know that.” His voice dips there, and for a moment he tenses. “Regardless,” he snaps the stapler down onto the end of the sawhorse, ka-chunks the thick metal into sturdy wood, “Your reputation, the last thing good about you, it would be dragged. I imagine that would feel much worse than anything I’m going to do to you.”

This is bullshit. They both know this is bullshit.

He pushes his wrists together, balls his fists up, and knocks Vulpes the fuck out.

Except, he doesn’t do that at all. There’s no guarantee he’d succeed. Boone swallows, then nods and steps forward.

The shackles are removed just long enough that Vulpes can guide him forward over the horse without any chain resistance. Then Vulpes moves quick, and chains Boone’s left ankle to the left back leg of the horse.

Those touches along his spine are almost gentle. Vulpes pets his back and whispers, “I knew you’d listen. You can be reasonable, when you try.”

He releases the tension and just enjoys the touches.

Except, he doesn’t do that at all. “Fuck you, _Vulpes_.”

“It’s funny, I barely even consider myself that anymore. I mean, certainly that was my title, but they no doubt have already replaced me with someone who probably died in the battle. My replacement is something I have you to thank for. _So many_ things I want to thank you for.” He walks around the shed at a casual slow pace. He looks at all the tools that hang from pegboards and lay flat on tables, as though he hasn’t already figured out exactly what he wants to do with each one.

Boone adjusts a bit, attempts to give his cock a bit of space off the edge of the horse. “Lately, Vulpes is all I consider you.”

Vulpes flashes a smile. “Good. Maybe I’m back to normal. No more… yes sir, no more bending over and taking you in, no more…” Vulpes turns and reaches for a pair of needle-nose pliers. He squeezes them a few times between his right palm and fingers, tool raised high enough Boone can see it clearly. “Lucius has a pair of these. Had, perhaps. I imagine he’s dead.”

“Good.”

“I agree. I was rather _not_ fond of him.” He turns and quickly steps forward, presses his body up along the horse and places the pliers before Boone’s face. “Of course, these can be used to break bones and pull teeth. Anyone with a brain could see that.”

He hadn’t ever considered it but suddenly that’s all he can consider.

“But I don’t really like that idea. It’s a lot more fun to move things along slowly.” He presses the metal bits at the end to Boone’s left ear. He doesn’t squeeze. “Don’t you think?”

“I don’t have all day.”

“Yes, you do. You really, _really_ do.”

He doesn’t want all day.

Those pliers tighten. It’s not the worst pain by a wide berth, but it’s not pleasant. He grits his teeth and carries on breathing like normal.

Vulpes moves the pliers down a bit, adjusts the position, then squeezes again ever so slowly.

The coil of his ear feels like it’s going to just shrivel up under the metal pinches. He wishes he could shrivel with it. “Is this your worst?” It’s supposed to come out casual, but he feels that pain a bit sharper the moment he starts talking, and by the end, it sounds like a whine even to his own ears.

“Hardly.” Vulpes moves to the other side, takes Boone’s right ear, and does the same. “I understand you NCR men get in the habit of collecting Legion ears. How… savage. We just collected dogtags.”

He scoffs. “Liar. I know… at least two…”

“Fine, some of us collected other things. Not me. Body parts are too messy.”

He laughs in a cough, then sighs when the pliers move away and Vulpes returns to the pegboard. He watches Vulpes return them to the exact right spot. It’s a small thing to be thankful for, but he is. “You would say bodies are too messy, while torturing someone.”

“Yes, I would. When I make you bleed, and I will, I won’t be dealing with the blood much myself. It’ll be contained. Lucky for you, there won’t be any wild sawing or sledgehammers to your limbs.”

Well, small victories.

Boone tries to figure what Vulpes reaches for, but that slim body makes a better door than window. Still, as long as everything is in the right place, which it seems to be, he can figure it out. Wrenches went there, and though a few were covered, Vulpes didn’t seem to reach for those. Screwdrivers were all shown. It could be his-- He sees Vulpes grip the pipe wrench in hand and turn around.

“I really like squeezing things. I don’t know, there’s something so satisfying in tightening and tightening and…" Vulpes takes a deep breath and the way his eyelids flutter and his lips pull into a wicked smile gives Boone chills, "And tightening, until the flesh bruises right down to the muscle.” He moves around behind Boone. The lower jaw of the wrench shifts downwards as the screw mechanism wheels audibly between Vulpes’ fingers. As Vulpes opens the wrench, he presses it up against Boone’s sac. It doesn’t press hard, it just reminds Boone it’s there.

“I think I preferred when you were fucking me.” He grits his teeth and presses his mouth against the horse. Idiot mouth.

“Oh, don’t be impatient. That’s still going to happen. I just want to enjoy the foreplay.”

“You’ve got a shitty idea of foreplay.”

“And you had me subjugated for a year. As I’ve said, if anyone earned this, it’s you.”

“Lucky me.” He hears the wheel stop. The metal is fully open against his balls. The metal glides smooth over his skin. Vulpes’ hand lifts them up, and the other hand begins to screw the lower jaw back towards the upper. It does not hurt, not yet.

He shuts his eyes and grabs tight at the front legs on the horse. It’s tight now, pressing against his sac with just enough pressure it’s not comfortable.

It hurts now. It hurts and he tries to keep his body still, to relax it, so he doesn’t clench and jerk and make it all worse. He knows how bad that can be, if you fight when you shouldn’t.

“Though… maybe I shouldn’t do that yet.” Vulpes caresses the underside of them while he holds the wrench in place with the other hand. “I want to see if you’ll get hard from everything else. I think you will.”

“Not likely.”

“I think you will. Even just my doing this and I can see you stiffening up.” Vulpes tightens the wrench.

He grunts and buries his head against a shoulder. It’s fine. This is fine.

The screw releases slowly. Finally, Vulpes pulls away. He sets the pipe wrench exactly where it belongs and lifts up a tape measuring roll. Vulpes snaps and it all unfolds in a snaked coil along the wooden floor. “Let’s see if you measure up.”

What he _should_ say, is nothing.

What he _does_ say, is, “And what happens if I don’t? Are you going to cut me down to size?”

Vulpes stands behind him once more and wraps the measuring tape, tight, around his cock and balls. Only when the full roll it used does he finally secure it with something that sounds distinctly like tape. “Yes. But I’ll measure twice, just to make sure.” Vulpes tugs him, then reaches up and spanks Boone’s ass a few times.

Boone feels his cock thicken, despite his best efforts against it.

Vulpes leans over Boone, makes the sawhorse rock a bit, though it mostly remains steady. “You look so good like this.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s going to be a treat to take you.” Hands reach back and spread his cheeks. “But there are other things in here and I have so many things I want to try first.”

Boone licks his lips. They’re dry. His mouth is dry. His throat is dry. Why is everything so goddamn dry? “Like what?”

Vulpes pulls off and saunters back over the pegboard that takes up the entire East wall. “Well, for starters. I really like the looks of this.”

A saw. A hacksaw, specifically, but that doesn’t make it better.

“I thought you weren’t into messy.”

“It won’t be, if you don’t struggle.”

Bastard. He tenses hard for several seconds, then lets out a breath and releases the tension on a slow backward-10-count. Relaxed. That’s how he needs to be. He’d shaved them both enough times with a straight razor to know that tensing wasn’t ideal. It probably wasn’t here either.

“Good boy.”

He ignores how that affects him. He ignores everything and just focuses on… the saw, right there on his shoulder. The teeth poke, but do not enter.

“You can feel that, can’t you?”

How could he not? That is the stupidest fucking… “Yeah.” Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in...He holds then, when he feels the saw begin to move. There’s not real force behind it, Vulpes seems to just drag it under its own weight, not any he applies.

It does not feel good, but it’s less painful and more unpleasant. His skin tingles. Boone grunts and shuts his eyes.

“What does it feel like?”

“Scraping. It feels like a cactus.”

“A cactus? Interesting.” The saw rose, and Vulpes turned it so it moved down Boone’s spine. It just pulled right along.

It should hurt more. He’d gotten nicked once, working with the saw when pissed at Fox. Though, the teeth only went forwards, and Vulpes was pulling it back.

Smart. All the fear, none of the cleanup.

Boone lets out an exhale that turns into a sigh.

“Something wrong?”

“Besides you sawing my back?”

There’s that laugh. “It doesn’t hurt that bad, does it?”

No. But he doesn’t want to encourage Vulpes.

“Answer.” Vulpes applies just a bit more pressure, then pushes forward just the barest bit. The teeth dig in.

Fucking Christ. That’s not even fair. “No, it doesn’t hurt that bad.” Boone’s grateful when the saw goes the wrong direction again.

“You know, I'd figured you’d try to escape by now.”

“Are you trying to give me ideas?”

Vulpes laughs again and stops the saw just short of Boone’s ass. “Hardly. I’m just surprised. You act so tough, but you give in so readily. Perhaps you’ve been hoping for this?”

“Nope.”

“If you say so.” The saw lifts and Vulpes returns it to its spot on the wall. He lifts up a painted yellow leveler.

See, this is exactly it. He could _appreciate_ whatever creative bullshit Vulpes was going to do with a leveler but he wasn’t going to _enjoy_ it. He eyes it with suspicion and waits.

Vulpes tilts it from side to side, then sets it flat on the table. He moves down to eye level with it, and nods. “It seems pretty accurate.”

“It is. I check it.”

“That’s good. I think I’ll make a few checks of my own though.”

When Vulpes goes behind him with it in hand, he begins to buck.

“Calm down.”

Calm down. They rub it against his ass and he’s supposed to calm down? Those edges were sharp enough to slice his insides if...

Vulpes presses the pointed end right up against Boone’s asshole. “I don’t think you know who’s in charge here. It’s not you, it’s me.”

He’s going to strangle them. He’s going to wrap his hands around their-- He calms the moment he feels it move up onto his back instead.

“I never planned on taking you with it, _idiot_. You’d probably bleed and I’d prefer not make you bleed much there.”

“You rubbed it.”

“Of course I did. I have plans for it.”

Boone remains still, waits. Vulpes clearly wants to talk, and he’d prefer not open his mouth much more.

“If the leveler falls off your back while I take you, you’ll regret it. I’ll suspend you from the ceiling and leave you here tonight.”

At least it’s a concrete punishment listed. He hates ‘or else’ and he always has. There are too many 'or else' punishments in the world. Not enough of them that would prevent him from doing what he wants, but just enough that he might really regret it after.

He’ll keep his mouth shut and his back even.

Vulpes unzips, tugs himself out, and rubs it against Boone’s ass. The tip leaks against the hole, but doesn’t push inwards. “It’s a shame I don’t have someone else here. If I had a frumentarius at my command, I’d order them to plug your mouth while I enter from behind.”

No complaints. No talking back. He grips the legs of the horse and does his damnedest to let Vulpes talk uninterrupted.

It’s a lot easier to not talk when he’s the one in charge and his smart-ass self isn’t coming out.

Vulpes prods his cock, smears thick pre-come all over Boone’s asshole. “Do you want it hard, or gentle?”

Vulpes seems to get off on illusion choices. Still, “I’d prefer it gentle.” He’s not weak. He just prefers to have the energy he needs and it can be draining when Vulpes is rough. Besides, rough means the level falls off.

“Beg for it, Boone. Tell me how you want me to take you.”

Son of a bitch.

The head presses forward, demands entry.

He tenses, and feels the level shift and rock just enough to make him paranoid. “Wait. Alright.”

The head pulls back. “Go on.”

What did he usually do with Fox? “I’d like you to. Put a few fingers in my mouth.”

“Oh, is that right?” Vulpes pulls away from him and walks around. His fingers wait there, right by Boone’s mouth, but make no move to go in. “What then?”

“After, I, sucked them, you could stretch me with them.” It feels worse than torture. This is Hell.

Vulpes shoves the fingers in for a few seconds, really rolls them around inside Boone, then pulls them out. “Mmm, would you suck my cock too?” Vulpes uses those fingers to stroke over Boone’s cheeks.

“I. Yeah, I could.”

“Do you want to?”

He swallows. “Yeah. I want to suck your cock.” He can honestly say he wishes the punishment was something like ‘a beating’. He could take that. He wouldn’t like it, but at least it wouldn’t require he speak much.

“Open your mouth,” Vulpes prods the tip against Boone’s lips.

It’s immediate. He opens and takes Vulpes in as deep as he’s able, then Vulpes pushes harder and ends up further along.

He gags, he always does, and he chokes, and he struggles for the briefest of moments. Then he forces calm and attempts to keep the level from wobbling off. His back isn’t exactly slender, but the sawhorse isn’t exactly wide enough to support him comfortably and he tilts too much.

“Good boy,” A mocking voice and a gentle hand in his hair. Vulpes tugs himself out.

Boone gasps and tries to steady himself as quickly as he can.

“Then what?”

“You could… well, you could put those fingers inside of me now.” Fuck Vulpes. Fuck Vulpes. Fuck. He’s hard, he’s unbearably hard and this is not ok.

Vulpes sees it.

Boone knows Vulpes sees it. He can feel the smirk on his back. He refuses to look back though, in case he tips the level off himself.

Vulpes chuckles and pushes the first two fingers in, “Like this?” He shifts them, rotates them.

No, not like that. “That’s a bit. That’s rough.”

“Oh, do you want it slower?” The fingers cease thrusting, and one teases along Boone’s prostate. “Do you really want it gentle? Should I make love with you, Boone?”

“I want it slower.”

“What about those other two things, Boone? Do you want that as well?”

This is sick. So, of course, his cock’s harder than it has a right to be. They’re a pair of fucked up individuals. “Yeah. I want that.”

“Say exactly what you want, or I’m slamming in right now.” The fingers pull back and a cock head threatens to breach.

“I want you to be gentle. I want… I want you to…” Jesus Fucking Christ. He never even called it lovemaking with-- “Fuck you, Vulpes. Go to Hell.”

Satisfaction short lived, he feels Vulpes length fully inside within a few seconds. It tears a long groan from him. It makes him tense, but it doesn’t matter, Vulpes goes despite the clenches.

“You’re so proud. Can’t even say a few things.” It’s a tsking tone, even as he slams into Boone, “What a shame.”

He feels the yellow plastic against his back, he knows it’s shifting and shaking with every thrust forward, with every spank to his ass. He does his best to focus less on Vulpes and more on adjusting his back to keep the leveler on the level. It doesn’t have to be even, it just can’t fall off.

“You’re still so tight. I love that. It almost hurts me every time, but I don’t mind. It’s worth it to pull those whore moans from your lips, Boone.”

“That’s funny.”

“Oh?” Vulpes stills the thrusts and leans forward a bit.

“You’re the one who’s taken it the most in the last year.”

He doesn’t regret it. Even when the thrusts force his body forward and the leveler falls past the point of no return and he does his best to compensate the other direction, he doesn’t regret it. He hears the plastic thunk.

Boone overcompensates the other direction and turns the sawhorse into a rocking horse long enough to pull the second shackle free.

It’s agony, when Vulpes pulls out and falls backward. It tugs, and it hurts.

But he’s freed. He rounds on Vulpes, grabs the nearest big wrench, and smacks Vulpes upside the head.

One hit is all it takes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interested in talking to me and saying what you feel about a story, but nervous to leave a comment? Have prompts and want to maybe see them come to life?
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	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All bugs are insects, but not all insects are bugs.

 

Boone flips the page and keeps right on reading.

Vulpes is awake. His breath hitches almost silently, but Boone hears it. His body tenses almost imperceptibly, but Boone feels it.

Boone reads about insects. He doesn’t really give a damn about bugs, but it’s better than nothing and it’s the newest book he has. He’s somewhat thankful if Vulpes drugged him at the party that Vulpes had at least taken all the items he'd bought with.

Vulpes swallows. People in their sleep swallow too, but they don’t try to keep their swallows silent. For the last several hours, those swallows had been as noisy as the breaths.

Boone doesn’t think he’s ever seen a ladybug before. They look weird. Little black spots on red coats that cover wings. He’s glad that none of them mutated and got massive like some bugs did.

“I’m surprised to be in bed.” Vulpes finally says something.

Boone smirks. “Why’s that?” He doesn’t look over. They hate that, when he doesn’t look at them when they’re uncertain.

“I figured I’d wake up in a pine box.”

“No. I wouldn’t waste the wood.”

“Ah.”

Boone reads more.

“Too tired to dig today then?”

“If I was going to bury you, you’d be in the dirt.”

“Then…”

“All bugs are insects, but not all insects are bugs. Did you know that?”

Vulpes looks a lot more like Fox when he’s chained up like that. “No, I didn’t.”

“Me neither. I think it’s like squares and rectangles.”

“Are we just not going to talk about what happened?”

What happened. Vulpes sure had a way with words. “Do you want to?” He looks then, stares at them fully.

They seem smaller, somehow, despite being stretched out over the length of the bed. Hands chained to the top posts, ankles to the bottom, it’s more bondage than Vulpes has been in for quite a long time.

“I hate this tension.”

Boone shifts then stretches over Vulpes and sets the book on that nightstand. “Yeah?”

A nod. “You’re going to punish me. We both know that. I’d just like it to happen.” The voice is soft. Meek.

He makes Vulpes look at him fully, he grabs that chin and tugs.

There’s fear in those eyes he hasn’t seen in a long time. Undiluted, unadulterated, true fear.

It’s kind of funny. They went so many months without much more than Fox mouthing off and him just pulling him over his lap and spanking him. No basement trips, no extensive chains. Things felt alright before.

The grip softens and he pets their cheek, “Let’s get one thing clear. If you ever threaten someone else I know again, I will kill you. This is between you and me.” He keeps his voice as soft as his touch.

There’s this expression on their face when they think very hard. Those lips purse a bit, that neck tenses, and those brows tug just enough that Boone sees it. Finally a nod and, “Alright.”

“If you go into my shed without permission ever again I will shove a saw up your ass and leave you to the deathclaws. Alive.”

They shift but otherwise remain looking at him. “Alright.”

“And don’t say ‘lovemaking’. It makes you sound like a kid. There are things I’ll do, Fox. That’s not one of them.” He releases Vulpes’ face, reaches long enough to grab the book again, and lays back against his pillow.

“And apparently it’s also something you won’t say. Except for there.”

Boone snorts. “I’m definitely going to punish you though. I just haven’t decided how yet.”

“Oh.” A bit of that newly grown ease spills away and Fox squirms again.

Heh. Good.

He reads for another thirty pages. Fox stares at the ceiling.

“Why aren’t you just going to kill me?”

“I thought we were done with this conversation.” He turns the page.

“Shouldn’t you though?”

“You didn’t.”

“You don’t know I wouldn’t have. It was only a week. I could have had plans, you don’t know.”

“I’d rather keep you around. Whatever dumb thing you think you should do if that happens again, that’s your business. I don’t care, Fox.”

Those breaths are still shallow, but they begin to steady, Fox begins to relax again. “You act as though you’re expecting that again.”

“You’re sneaky. It took a few failures last time before you stopped. But that’s alright.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You’re the one who’s about to get fucked, not me.”

He tosses the book away and rolls over Vulpes. His mouth feels good over theirs, in theirs, taking Vulpes. He pushes the sheet down and grins his own cock against Vulpes’ own. A break, then he pulls back enough to whisper, “You’re mine, Fox. No one else's.” He strokes his cock, then lines up.

Fox moans loud and spreads his legs as much as he can when shackles bind his ankles.

He bites Fox’s throat, sucks at it too. His cock prods, pushes, but doesn’t quite get inside. He doesn’t normally go dry, but damn it, Vulpes had.

He reaches down and tries to get himself fully hard, but it won’t work. It must be the angle. It’s too awkward. He turns and moves to unlock the ankle shackles, then pauses. “Don’t try anything.”

Fox nods, “I won’t.”

Good. If he’s a fool for believing it so soon, then fine, but he’s certain that’s not a lie. Boone unshackles their legs and quickly moves them so those ankles are up over his shoulders. He considers a dry dick again. Boone decides against it. If Vulpes was a piece of garbage who didn’t mind a chafed dick a whole week running, fine. Boone had better things to do with his dick than sandpaper it out of spite.

So he spits onto his fingers, pushed two in at a time, and spreads them about as much as he was willing to do. Just because usually he was gentle, didn’t mean he always was. He spits again into that same hand and strokes it along his cock a few times.

There, it was definitely the position, his cock hardens right up and twitches for Fox. He doesn’t waste a second. His head pushes against that tight ass and in he goes. That nice hole stretches for him, sucks him right in and for a bit, he doesn’t care about anything.

He grinds down into Fox, reaches out and strokes that chest, tweaks those nipples. “You’re so tight. I don’t think you should go that long without this.”

Fox’s eyes nearly close and he hangs his mouth open in that little pout. Soft gasps pull out and he bites his bottom lip. A low moan rumbles out and Fox adjusts a bit more, gives Boone a better angle to his ass.

“Do you want this?”

There’s a moment where he worries Vulpes is back, but then Fox replies, “Yes.”

He believes it. He thrusts harder, pushes his cock in as deep as he’s able. He leans over Fox, makes them fold so he can keep fucking even while he kisses them. His thrusts aren’t as gentle as they started, they’re not as smooth. He’s craved this for a week, and he doesn’t care if his body comes too soon, or about anything else.

He fucks Fox until the finish, and keeps right on thrusting for a minute longer, even as come drools out around his length and pools on the sheets beneath.

Fox is hard, so very hard, and normally Boone would reach down and help him out.

Boone pulls out and lays back down next to them. “You’re not allowed to come at all for a week.”

“Wh--”

“Which is how long I wasn’t able to. If you want worse, that’s fine, argue. All I know is I _never_ didn’t let you come _before_ you pulled that.”

Fox snorts and settles into the bed as best as he’s able. His legs shift and squirm a lot, but he can’t move off the come stain without twisting his arms too much.

Boone smirks and returns to reading shortly after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Join my discord server! It's for whatever, and I talk about fanfic there sometimes!](https://discord.gg/5ctd7mb)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Punishment Week, Part 1.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a few more chapters friends.

 

Fox shifts against the chains that secure wrists and ankles to bed posts. “Are these entirely necessary?”

“I don’t know. Are they?” He flips a page.

“Can you truly blame me?”

“Absolutely.”

Fox is bold though, “Boone. I can be good to you.”

“I know.”

“You could at least let my hands free.”

“And why should I do that?”

“Because then I could stroke you exactly how you like. Right from the base, up along the underside, until I’m fisting your head and thumbing the tip. You like that, don’t you?”

“Yep.”

“So you will?”

“Maybe tomorrow. Maybe not. I’m not promising anything.”

Fox sighs, but it's soft, not the aggressive puff he sometimes pulls. “Alright.”

He wants to release Fox from the chains entirely. He likes it when they can lounge in bed on Saturday morning and go eat a lazy breakfast. He likes it when he just has to pull a few weeds from the garden, check for pests, then go see if anything around the house needs doing.

He is pretty certain he doesn’t like what Vulpes pulled, even if he was hard when he woke up after dreaming about it.

He’s still hard. The book on bugs doesn’t make his hard-on go away and he feels Fox looking. He knows. They both know.

Boone sets the book aside. “Open up.”

Fox obeys.

He’s not gentle, but he’s not rough either. He just pushes and pushes up against that warm tongue and into that tight throat. He finishes, sighs, pulls back, and feels Fox work that nice throat until it’s all swallowed down.

He rolls back and figures this is close enough to a normal lazy Saturday he doesn’t mind the slight difference. He’d prefer the chains and shackles not jingle jangle and remind him of that awful song, but he accepts it.

Fox has to learn.

\---~~~---

All day, he’s listened to Fox step about in those chains. They don’t drag like in the beginning, but they still shift and pull like the heavy metal they are, loud enough Boone can hear Fox throughout the house, even when they don’t share space in the same room.

At the moment, Fox prepares dinner while Boone replaces a bulb in the living room.

He considers stepping the few feet off the chair and over and ensuring that Fox doesn’t poison him again. A smart man would do that. He cranes his head a bit and looks. Everything seems normal with--the bulb comes out. The base does not. Of course. He grunts and moves into the kitchen, the good bulb in one hand, the burnt out empty glass in the other.

“I’m going to the shed. Is there anything else that needs fixing?”

“Anything else?” Fox glances over his shoulder at Boone, an open confused look on his face. “Didn’t I hand you a good... oh. Unfortunate.”

“Yeah.”

“I think I read once a potato works for that sort of thing.”

“Maybe, but then there’s potato gunk in there. I’m just turning off the breaker and using some pliers. Anything else that needs doing, you should let me know.”

Fox washes his hands off, then towels dry. Wetness clings under the shackles. That’s not very sanitary. “I can’t think of anything.”

Boone nods and leaves. Within fifteen minutes the new bulb fits perfect, the lights are back on, and he watches Fox prepare dinner from his spot reading at the table.

He really doesn’t like those shackles though. Meat germs aren’t things to mess around with. The last thing he wants is--Fox comes and stands next to him with that look that says Take Me.

“How long before dinner’s done?”

“About an hour.”

“Set the timer.”

“Already did.”

He takes Fox to the bath, takes those shackles off, and gives Fox a nice scrub-down with kisses and nips all along their throat and chest. He’s extra gentle along the faded burns, holds Fox tight against his own chest.

“Boone, please.”

He presses Fox over the back of the clawfoot tub and moves up behind them. “You want it?”

“Take me, Boone.”

Fox likes it rough sometimes. Especially in the bath, he gets wet and soapy and lately with the hot water working, he shifts and asks Boone impatiently.

Boone lines up and presses in. The way Fox moans, the way he glides back, the way he asks for Boone to use him, it all feels so fucking good. He’s quick to come. He pulls out and sprays it over Fox’s back.

Fox reaches down, begins to work at his own dick.

Nope. He catches that wrist and sets it up on the edge of the tub. “When you’re done cleaning yourself, scrub those down and leave them to dry over the towel rack. I don’t want them getting ruined.”

He leaves with a very frustrated Fox behind him, no doubt scowling. Fox will obey though. Sure enough, he hears the rough sounds of shackles being scrubbed a moment later.

\---~~~---

He let Fox take the shackles off for breakfast, but puts them back on when it’s time to work outside.

Fox works slowly but precisely, as he always does. He starts at the back corner of a plot and works his way along the row. Keen eyes ensure no harmful pests are left and he plucks any weeds--or anything that isn’t exactly what they’re growing--from the crops. He’s very good at what he does.

But it’s hot. And Fox keeps wiping sweat away and jangling his chains and panting enough harder than usual that Boone notices.

Boone keeps working, doesn’t stare. But he spots there’s some redness under the chains and figures the sweat doesn’t feel too great and the dirt’s getting in under the metal.

He shouldn’t care but he does; it’s not about comfort, it’s about the value of those chains. They’re expensive and they shouldn’t exactly be used in the dirt. They can stand up to it but that’s a lot of extra cleaning neither one of them should have when there’s already so much to do.

“Come here.”

Fox nearly plucks a perfectly good plant. The hand stills before he can make that mistake. He glances over, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Come here.”

A nod and Fox stands a bit unsteady, then walks over with careful steps around the plants. The chains threaten to drag, but he manages to keep them off the ground. “Is there something you need?”

“We should eat lunch.”

“Alright.” He looks to the sun, as though to check the time. There’s that look that says he wants to ask, but he just nods and goes with it.

Good. “Here.” He pulls the key free and releases them. “Make sure they’re clean and put them with the others.” A smart man wouldn’t let Vulpes have that much freedom.

Fox nods and steps around to the front door.

\---~~~---

Fox looks at him for a moment, before he complies and lays back so Boone can chain him to the bed.

He worried, for that second, but he relaxes immediately and settles in over his restrained Fox. “It’s been a long day.”

A nod, and Fox squirms and shifts on the mattress. The springs squeak in a whisper under the weight.

Boone has considered getting a newer one, or at least one that doesn’t squeak, but he kind of likes the squeaks. It’s loud, and it lets him know just how hard he’s taking Fox. Sometimes the metal grates on him, but most of the time he enjoys it. Plus, when they leave the bed he always hears it and can listen to hear why.

“How do you want it?”

Another moment of wider eyes, almost concern on Fox’s face, and then he answers, “However you want it.”

Yeah, bullshit though. “No, how do you want it?”

The look reminds him of those first months. That had its appeal, but he doesn’t think he likes it nearly as much as he liked it a month back, before the Legion lost and Vulpes decided it was time to make a comeback.

Finally, Fox says a quiet, “I’d like it softer. Work wasn’t easy.”

“It rarely is.” He can oblige though. He doesn’t mind softer. He has no preference at the moment, he has a hard cock that wants a warm hole and Fox has the nicest one around. Not that he’s tried any of the others. He hasn’t thought about it, for the most part.

Their ankles fit perfect around his waist when he finally finishes with prepping and pushes in.

He almost jacks them off, lets them come with him. He remembers it as his hand touches Fox’s cock and he definitely feels a tad bit guilty when the soft cock stiffens immediately.

Fox whines and looks up with outright begging pulled over his face, lit up in his eyes, though the words don’t come out.

He would. He really would. His cock twitches and says that it’d very much like to feel Fox come and with it feel the intense sensation of clenching and jerking.

Boone releases them and lifts those ankles up higher, onto his shoulders. He folds Fox over and fucks them into the mattress. Lips cover up lips that looked like they wanted to complain.

After, he brings out the R encyclopedia and they read together in silence.

He doesn’t read much. He tries, but he can’t focus. Fox falls asleep before he does.

\---~~~---

Fox rubs against him in the morning, with a body that says awake and a face that says sleeping.

He believes the face, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to pin his Fox down onto the mattress and fuck like they both need and want.

Instead, he rolls out of bed and starts the day. Fox wakes up moments later and starts his too.

Fox kisses Boone’s neck and sets the hot eggs before Boone on the table with a tink. Bruised arms wrap about his shoulders and rub for a glimpse of time, then Fox pulls away and moves back to the counter to grab his own plate.

Boone feels the touches, inhales that Fox scent, even after they’re busy on their own plate of eggs.

“Something wrong?”

“No.” It resets him. He lifts up the first bite and notes it’s almost cold. That’s his fault. He’ll eat it faster next time.

During gardening, Fox peels his shirt off and stretches out in the sun. Sweat glides over his body, highlights pale skin that’s normally covered with a thick red shirt. Fox wipes his forehead constantly, arches his back, and shakes the sweat away.

Boone keeps gardening and minds his own damn business.

Lunch is a baked potato and he doesn’t let Fox seduce him this time, he makes his own damn potato and eats it in the living room chair. He stares at the wall.

Every moment Fox could touch him and then tease and pull away, Fox does. Fox keeps teasing him, right until it’s almost dinner time. Then he stops, then he acts innocent and polite and so very considerate.

He’s onto the game. Fox can fuck himself. But not actually, because Boone’s a man of his word, damn it, even if that word was a very ill-advised one and he really wishes he could slam Fox down onto the kitchen table and let them both come because it always feels the best that way.

He doesn’t touch Fox at all in bed. He skims and scans pages and tries to turn them at the right times to make it look like he’s reading.

Fox would feel so fucking good, riding him. Clawing from shoulders down to his chest, kissing him, taking his cock so deep…

“Can I help you?” Fox asks it in an almost whisper.

“Nope.”

“Is something wrong?” The voice rises a bit, presses.

“Nope.”

“It’s just, you’ve been on the same page for twenty minutes.”

Oh. He turns the page and starts to read.

Who gives a fuck about ducks? Why does he even have this book?

Fox snuggles up close to him and those bright eyes seem to truly focus on the words.

Why is Fox’s punishment hurting him too? He’ll have to pick a better one next time. He should have just spanked them or something and been done with it. But no, he had to go further. It’s not as though he’s an impatient man--he’s a fucking sniper-- but he hasn’t had this particular dilemma before.

He doesn’t appreciate it. But Saturday’s almost there.

\---~~~---

Fox holds his shoulders and uses them as a brace. Fingers grip muscles, Fox rises slowly, and slams down. His cock, it drips and bobs and twitches with the motions, but he doesn’t touch it. He lets out the softest cries, builds them into heavy moans, and leans in to whisper, “Please, Boone.”

It explains why Fox was so adamant that he wanted it. He just wanted to come. Naughty.

Boone smirks, kisses them right on those pouty lips, and shakes his head. “No.”

He doesn’t wait for the pout to grow. He kisses harder and reaches down to push those hips down. Over, over, he lifts Fox and forces him down until finally, he finishes.

Fox slips off of his own accord and flops over onto his back. “You’re cruel.”

“You’ll live. Lucky you.” He knows Fox wants to retort. He sees the way their chest heaves and their shoulders tense. He also sees how Fox settles a few moments later, starts to relax.

Fox glances back over. “Tomorrow then?”

“Hmm.”

“Tomorrow it’s been a week.”

“Tomorrow it’s Friday. I said no more for a week last Friday.” He wants to go with this.

“Exactly.”

“I meant Saturday.” But it was late Friday when the punishment started, not early. Fox can’t just skirt his way around things.

“But that’s eight days, not seven.”

“Could make it longer.” Don’t make him.

Fox flips over onto his side. He says something, but the pillow swallows it.

He wonders, idly, if he might see Vulpes check in before Friday finishes. A smart man would double up on security, instead of getting more lax. A smart man would do a lot of things.

He wonders, idly, what Vulpes might do, if he’s very motivated to come.

Probably, it’d hurt Boone quite a lot. Probably, Boone should chain them up tomorrow and treat them nice Saturday. He considers it.

\---~~~---

Fox is generally not overly warm without wanting something, and that suits Boone just fine. But he’s certainly not usually cold.

Not that this is cold. It’s perfectly polite. There’s an edge to it though. Fox smiles and it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He says all the right things and does breakfast well and plucks the garden free of any invaders and does everything just perfectly.

Boone is suspicious. He would love to not be, but he is.

“Those clouds look like they’re bringing rain.” Fox wipes some sweat from his brow and glances over to Boone.

Boone’s focus sticks to the maize in front of him. “Yep. Should come pretty hard.” He doesn’t see the scowl, but he feels it. He smirks.

“Didn’t you mention there’d be rain tomorrow?

“There will be, from the looks of it.”

“It might not hold off that long.”

“It better.”

“Oh?”

“We’ve still got some work to do.”

“Of course.”

He knows that tone. That’s not Fox.

He should go inside and chain Fox down for a bit, let them both cool off. Just another day and then punishment’s over and they can just scoot on past this.

He should be a normal man who doesn’t harbor the enemy and bury men in his backyard. Should is a brahmin that keeled over a long time ago. Speaking of, “I’ve been thinking about building a pen and bringing some bighorners and brahmin up.”

“Just for us, or?”

“Yeah, just us. Last thing I want is some brahmin baron coming by and getting buried too. People might actually look for one of them.”

Vulpes laughs. Fox laughs.

He doesn’t really know which one it is, but he laughs too.

Fox sighs and lays down against the wall of the shed.

Boone stands, stretches, and steps over. “Taking a break?”

“It’s unbearable. It’s so hot. So wet. I wish it’d just happen already, it’d feel so much better.”

Boone kneels before them, focuses his eyes on theirs. “Turn over.”

It’s an instantaneous reaction. One moment, Fox sits against the shed, the next, he flips over and presents his ass.

“You want it so bad, don’t you?”

“You know I do.” It’s a grunt, it’s a moan. It’s both and more, and Fox or Vulpes pushes back, grinds his ass against Boone. “Please, Boone.”

Please isn’t exactly a word any of them uses that often. Fox has used it several times over several days.

He wants to, but he won’t. Still, he’s hard, and he wants it. Fox can wait. One more day, and he’ll make sure they enjoy it.

He pulls Fox back a bit and flips them onto their back, then folds them over and holds them at the knees, feels their ankles clasp around his neck. “Hard or soft?”

“Either, just please Boone.”

It’s bargaining. He’s tempted, but he declines with a shake of the head. “Not yet. Tomorrow.”

A look rises and falls and then whoever it is, they nod.

He’s still suspicious, but he’s impatient too, and he spits into his palm and rubs it along his fingers, then presses them into Fox. He can at least make them enjoy it all the way up until the almost peak.

They go from so tight to just tight enough for it to be perfect within a minute. Boone doesn’t work much longer than that before he pulls fingers free, spits in his palm, lubes himself up, and slides right on home.

Fox is perfect there beneath him, so warm and slick. Fox reaches arms out and holds Boone’s hands. Fingers tighten the grip every thrust and soon Fox pulls him in hard and keeps him there. “Fuck, Boone, please. Please, just let me, I’ll be so good”

He’s so close, god he’s close. “Tomorrow, I promise.”

Fox sighs. “Oh, Boone.”

Vulpes smirks. “Fine.”

He feels his orgasm choke even as he does. He tries to pull his hands free, to stop those strong legs, but Vulpes holds Boone in such a tight grip.

Vulpes tightens his grip everywhere: legs, hands, ass. “Just relax. There you go.”

He does, but he’s not happy about it.

Vulpes doesn’t loosen until Boone feels consciousness fade.

\---~~~---

Wetness. A drip of something smacks his cheek.

Boone grunts and blinks. He’s nude in a patch of fresh, unseeded, dirt. He’s either still hard or Vulpes made him that way again.

Vulpes lies beside him, also nude. He seems relaxed and wiggles bare toes in the gentle rain. “I’m glad you woke up. I was a bit worried I’d held you too long.”

‘Held’ was an interesting word for a chokehold, but fine. He huffs and tries the rope around his arms. It’s just tied to the wrists and it’s even kept in the front, somewhere even Boone could free himself from. “I’m surprised you haven’t tried something like that before.”

“I guess I was saving it for a rainy day.”

He laughs, despite himself, and shakes his head. “You’re terrible.”

Vulpes laughs. He shifts onto his side and nods. One hand reaches up to hold Vulpes’ chin while the other strokes along Boone’s chest. “I really am. Though, I suppose you’ve made your point.”

Point?

“I maintain you had it coming, but perhaps not as much as I gave.” He rolls over and his chest is wet. Vulpes presses their chests together and lies so his elbows are in the wet earth and his palms are pressed to his own cheeks.

It’s uncomfortable with how Vulpes drapes over his chest, but it’s bearable. “You’d admit that?”

“I suppose. I’m honestly surprised you didn’t try to force the conclusion. You’ve been heavy-handed in the past.” Vulpes continues to hold his face and just watch Boone.

“Maybe.”

“I half-expected, if you weren’t just going to kill me, for you to at least mark me up and down.”

“Did you want that?”

There’s a pause, a time where Vulpes stares with storm cloud eyes. Finally, “No more than you want this.”

He swallows and he wants to turn his head but that means Vulpes wins and like fuck is that allowed. “I never said I did.”

“I truly would have gone easier on you, every single time. All you had to do was ask.”

“Fuck you, Vulpes.”

“But you’re so stubborn, Boone. So very delightfully stubborn.” One hand moves from Vulpes’ cheek to caress at Boone’s. “You said I couldn’t come for an entire week. I maintain that should be today--”

“It’s tomorrow. Don’t make it worse for--”

“But! If you’re so set on tomorrow, that’s fine. So I ask, _one_ more time, is it tomorrow that I’m ‘allowed’ to come?”

He feels that wordplay noose. It’s there somewhere. “Yes.”

Vulpes sighs and lets both hands go to Boone’s cheeks. “Well then, my dear Boone, I suppose it’s only fair.”

He squints, and not only because the rain threatens to get him in the eyes. “Oh?”

“I respect that. You may be bound and helpless, tied and to be used to my whims, but you said I can’t come until tomorrow, and that’s how it is.”

“Good.” This was some bullfuckery if he ever heard it.

“But what’s to stop us from enjoying ourselves?”

If he squints any harder, he won’t be able to see Vulpes, and that strikes him as more dangerous than the conversation. “Nothing I guess.”

“Exactly.” Vulpes moves back, positions himself over Boone’s cock.

So, a trick that involves fucking Vulpes in the ass is still a trick, but he opens his eyes and adjusts his hands up his chest.

In a single move, Vulpes smacks his ass onto Boone’s pelvis. A loud low moan stretches out and Vulpes arches his head back. “Oh god yes.”

It’s not what he expected, but he can make it--

“Oh no, no touching.” Vulpes pushes both hands up, away from the dick.

There’s the first trick. But fine, let Vulpes do the work without anything in return. He won’t complain.

“Mmm, you know, you really do feel good. I probably should have gone easier on you, for your first times. I considered it.” Vulpes rises, he falls, he works those tightly muscled legs so well and rolls his hips expertly. All the work around the house and on the farm, it’s paid off tenfold.

“Yeah?”

“I did consider it. If you’ll recall, I gave you choices. You didn’t _like_ them, but I certainly haven’t liked a _lot_ of the choices you’ve given me.” All the while, he never stops fucking himself over Boone. His own cock is hard and needy, but he ignores it and stares down at Boone.

Boone listens, but only distantly. It’s like when he tries to read and Vulpes--or usually Fox he supposes--just won’t stop wriggling against his chest. He's better at focusing on one thing, not several.

“But don’t worry, Boone. I understand. That’s not for all the time. It’s for sometimes. I’m going to make sure you enjoy this so much.”

It’s a tone he knows is supposed to be frightening or at the very least, threatening. But that voice is so hot and Fox feels so good. Somewhere, a siren blares, but he ignores it and nods.

“And when we both finally get to come tomorrow, it’ll be worth it.”

The siren howls louder in his mind, but it doesn’t drown out his internal echo of ‘when we both finally get to come tomorrow’.

Vulpes’ smile grows from almost shy, to a slice of sadistic across his face. “Oh, come on, Boone. You didn’t think you could tell me to add an extra day without some sort of comeuppance, did you?”

“I ended your shit _late_ Friday, Vulpes. That goes into Saturday.”

“So you should have said _late_ Friday. What kind of nonsense math rolls over like that?”

“Most math? Did Legion teach you Latin but not math?”

Vulpes raises a hand, as though to slap.

Boone juts his chin out, ready.

Vulpes pets Boone’s face instead and his smile rolls back into gentle with a hint of teasing. “That’s not all they taught me.” He kisses Boone and rides him with easy hip rolls. “I’m going to make you beg.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Join my discord server! It's for whatever, and I talk about fanfic there sometimes! I still do some requests as well!](https://discord.gg/5ctd7mb)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're dirty men.

 

 

He was right there, right where he’d come and Vulpes would have something unpleasant planned for after. Just before he could come, fill up that dirty man, Vulpes pulls off and shakes his head. “Sorry, Boone. Not yet. Tomorrow, I promise.”

“Eat it.”

“Mmm, maybe later. After the bath. You’re going to be so filthy by the time we’re through outside.” Vulpes positions himself between Boone’s legs and lifts each up, “Look at you. So hot and tight.”

Rain falls harder, patters in harsh tinks on the metal roofing of the house.

Vulpes is hot and wet above him, beautiful in the rain even as Boone is frustrated.

He waits for the question. He hopes he answers better, but he can’t promise it to either of them.

Vulpes leans in, kisses at his hole. He lets Boone’s legs go over his shoulders, doesn’t even seem to worry Boone could easily do the same chokehold with a bit of maneuvering.

Boone doesn’t consider that either, especially once that tongue starts working him. It darts along the entrance, then licks right up and under his tight sac and presses his mouth to it. He doesn’t try to be quiet, but he’s glad the rain swallows up most of his noises.

With a chuckle, Vulpes rises enough to watch him. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Fuck off.”

“Oh, Boone.” A mocking hand taps Boone’s left cheek, then swirls around at Boone’s lips. “Open up, and I’ll prepare you this time.”

He would like to bite. Instead, he opens his mouth and sucks the finger in. He would also like to spit right into their face, but he chooses to swirl his tongue around the finger like Vulpes did around his asshole.

With a smirk, Vulpes pulls the finger away and puts it against Boone’s ass. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

“What?” The fingers slide in him, perhaps eased with the rain and saliva. Maybe Boone relaxed a bit too, made it go.

“Bite me. Spit at me. Shout or do anything like that.”

He should have. “It wouldn’t matter.”

“You’re right.” A second finger presses and rubs along sensitive skin. “Would you feel better if I apologized?”

More bullfuckery, it sounds like, but he considers it. He nods, “Yeah.”

Vulpes blinks. The fingers still. “I honestly expected another ‘fuck you, Vulpes’.”

Oh. “Fuck off.”

“But you do want one, don’t you?”

He shifts his legs off Vulpes’ shoulder and attempts to scoot physically away. It’s a failure of an attempt and he immediately gets caught and his muddy left foot is put back into place. He lifts the other one, just for the symmetry and to make Vulpes even more filthy.

“I’m sorry. At the very least, that first time I should have gone easy on you. Even if you were stubborn.”

It’s a shit apology. His cock twitches for entirely unrelated reasons. He can’t help it, there are two fingers in there and he’s about to get fucked in the mud in the rain and that’s--he’s only a man. He has needs.

“Can you handle a third?”

“Well, it’s not like I’m a virgin.”

“I suppose I deserve that.” A third finger presses in though eased by the rain for sure. “Do you like this?”

Warm rain soaks now, turns the dirt beneath him slick. It’s all around him and he sinks in. “Yeah.”

The smile’s sincere. “Good.”

Boone shuts his eyes and lays his head back into the mud. The rain rolls over him and caresses him. In the distance, thunder rocks through the mountains. “It’ll be lightning close soon.”

“We’ll have to go inside then.” Emphasis with three fingers that curl so nice. “But not before I’ve had you.”

He understands. He’s. He’s glad.

It’s fucked and he’s fucked and he doesn’t mind when Vulpes lies over him and presses in fully.

“That really is so much nicer.”

Boone nods. He lifts hands up and almost attempts to get them around Vulpes, but decides to lace his fingers together and loop them behind his head and neck instead. “That’s a good… angle.” He tries to breathe normally, but it’s all a lot. He only barely flubs it, but he sees that smirk.

“It is.” Vulpes leans further in, kisses his forehead. “You’re so dirty. You’re going to have to clean up all the mess you make.”

He grunts. “I don’t--”

Vulpes kisses him.

For a moment, for a taste of time, Boone relaxes and lets the kiss happen. His eyes swim shut and he eases over his hands, sinks a bit further into the mud. After that, he works again, rocks his body against Vulpes, against the kiss. He doesn’t try to break contact, just edge a bit more control.

That moan Vulpes makes into his mouth sends a shiver right through his cock, makes it rise up again and rub hard against both of them

Vulpes ends the kiss first, “You’re mine. Even when you break through that simple rope, and I’m sure even you can, you’re mine.”

Even you. “Are you gonna fuck me, or should I start taking notes?”

The grin lights up and Vulpes thrusts forward at a sharp angle. “Oh, Boone.” That thrust becomes several quick ones.

Bodies rub together and provide delicious friction, even with the wet rain that rolls and slides between them. It’s all so hot, wet, and tight.

Another kiss, then Vulpes removes himself. He pulls back enough, then slaps Boone’s ass. “Turn over.”

He’s face down in the mud before he knows it. The tip of his cock remains above the black dirt, not filthy like the rest of him is, yet. “I won’t be cleaning the house after this.”

“ _Yes,_ you _will._ ” Vulpes pushes right back in. “Unless, of course, you figure out how to get out of that rope first.”

He’s tempted to try. He could bite at it, but Vulpes would notice. Maybe he won’t though. That cock in him feels a bit too good to be concerned about mud tracked inside.

There are puddles, all around him. He can feel one on his back too, right there on the curve of his spine. It’s no doubt black from the mud he was in, but he doesn’t care. It feels nice.

The rain barrels are full enough, he can hear the rain splash hard against the collected water. It’s a nice sound against the sharp splashes of water over the metal roof.

“Do you like that?” Vulpes lies over him, grips his hips hard and pushes in so deep. “Do you like being full?”

He hates liars, and he hates lying. But sometimes he doesn’t want to talk.

“Tell me, Boone. Do you like how it feels?” It’s a pant at his ears, warm and wet and needy like Boone feels.

“Yes.”

“It’s so much better when you admit you like it, isn’t it?”

Fuck you, Vulpes. “Yeah.” Only a little bit more, and he doesn’t care what punishment there is, so long as--

Vulpes knows. He pulls out. “Not yet.”

He could choke them. He could roll over, sit up, and choke them right out in his tied up hands. But he doesn’t because unreasonable people choke others like that.

Boone squints over his shoulder.

Vulpes leans in for another kiss, then stands up. “Crawl to the front.”

Crawl? He wants to rise, to toss Vulpes into the mud and wrestle. He’d win, he’s sure of it. He’s got height, weight, and muscles on Vulpes, and he’s mad and turned on and he’d love nothing more than to sink his cock into Vulpes and add a little white to the black mud.

“Boone. I see that look. If it really means so much to you, go ahead. Try whatever foolish thing you have in mind. I don’t mind waiting a bit longer to go inside.”

“You really like hearing yourself talk.”

“I do. But I know you like it too. I can see your cock.” Vulpes waits.

Boone inhales, breathes in the fresh scent of their garden. Fragrant plants fill the damp air and he shuts his eyes and enjoys it for a beat before he twists and begins at a crawl after Vulpes. He can enjoy himself, even if Vulpes wants to humiliate him.

A hand reaches down and ruffles over Boone’s short hair.

Hair. “Where’s my beret?”

“I put it on the hook inside when I grabbed the rope.”

He nods. Good. “I want it back when this is over. Don’t keep it like last time.”

“Oh, sure, don’t complain about the forced nudity and chains, but the hat makes you upset.”

“I’d like it back, _please._ ”

Vulpes eyes him at a high angle, then nods. “Tomorrow. Not today or tonight. We’re going to be busy for a while.”

Busy. Boone nods. At the door, Vulpes has them stand and let the rain wash most of the dirt off, while they stand there, held together, over the tiny rubber welcome mat. It came with the place, despite how unwelcoming it was when he first arrived, but he’s glad he kept it. The rubber feels nice against his feet.

Warm rain was soothing, but hot shower melts him. The remainder of the mud washes down the drain, and Vulpes follows it up with a thick soapy sponge at his back and belly, then on down until legs turn to knees turn to ankles and finish up with toes.

He can feel them, but he only gets glimpses of Vulpes’ hands. Then Vulpes presses up close again, wraps his arms around Boone’s waist, and presses the sponge into bound hands. “Now you wash me.”

He’s done it at least a hundred times. Even when Vulpes was Fox--are they even different?-- he washed them whenever he thought to. He enjoys it.

This feels different though. Normally, it’s a bath. Cold, cool, warm, or hot, it always surrounds one or both of them and he enjoys reaching in and scrubbing.

Here, he turns about and feels the water hit him full on.

Still, he lowers his lids and washes the body before him. He starts with shoulders, runs the sponge down one arm, back up, and down the other before he returns to the chest. “This would be easier without the rope.”

“I’m sure it would.” Vulpes rolls his shoulders back, arches his pelvis forward. “I’ll untie you after.”

He kneels to get Vulpes’ lower half. He ignores that half-hard cock and works at everything else instead. Reaches the sponge back and strokes their ass, but doesn’t touch elsewhere.

Vulpes laughs, but it’s swallowed into the hot water spray. “Since you don’t want to sponge it, suck it.” He thrusts against Boone’s face.

He parts his lips a little, takes Vulpes in a lot more than he intends. He gags but manages to pull back and breathe, despite the water that streams onto his face from Vulpes’ curves. He expects Vulpes to force him forward again. Instead, Vulpes strokes Boone’s hair and thumbs his cheeks.

“Go on. Suck me.”

He doesn’t even mind this. He chose to do it more than once when Vulpes was still so confused and frustrated in the beginning, and he enjoyed it then. He enjoys it here, it’s not even a question of minding it.

He’s just not used to being told to do it.

Boone goes deeper, finds a comfortable pace that lets him taste, lets him breathe, and makes Vulpes above moan and pant heavy against the water. Boone presses his nose against soaking hair and holds a few seconds before he pulls back and looks up.

Their lips are turned up in an open-mouth smile. Blue eyes are covered almost completely with lids. Vulpes’ head tilts back and he rocks forward just a bit. “You’re so good at that.”

He begins to meet that little thrust.

Vulpes pulls all the way out and reaches back to turn off the shower. “I can’t.”

So close. He wonders what to do if Vulpes came first. Not just first, but before Saturday.

Boone would have to punish him. Maybe he’d pull him over, give him a nice hard spanking, right over Boone’s lap. After, he’d kiss and hold and fuck them until they begged for something, if not forgiveness.

Vulpes swings the curtain aside and tugs the towel in. He dries himself off first, methodically, head and neck first, a scrub to the shoulders and chest, then arms and legs, and finally his heavy cock and lower.

Then he hands it over with a smirk. “Dry off and meet me in my bedroom.”

My bedroom. Smug bastard.

His cock tugs up though, and he covers it with the towel first and dries it off without a look over at Vulpes and his tight ass. Well, with a single glance over and then he’s back to business.

He enters the bedroom, dry as far as his bound hands could make him. “You know you ruined this rope.”

“It was frayed anyway.” Vulpes shrugs, then motions for him to sit near. “It wasn’t good for much more than play.”

It is play. That’s a strange thought, and just as soon as that, he pushes past it and sits. “ _Fine_.”

Vulpes moves behind him, puts his legs on either side of Boone’s. He leans in and presses a kiss to Boone’s shoulders, one, then the other. “Should I cut it off? I can’t untie the knots otherwise until they dry a bit and I can see what I’m doing.”

His cock rises to that comment and this time he doesn’t have a towel. “I thought you were better at knots.”

Vulpes nips his right ear. “Maybe if you hadn’t gotten them all muddy, you wouldn’t be in this situation.”

Boone rolls his eyes.

“Besides, you don’t seem to mind one of those ideas.” A devilish hand reaches down and encourages Boone’s cock to lift further. “Should I cut you free?”

It’s a waste of rope. Then again, he knew the rope Vulpes used, and it was frayed along the middle already. That fraying couldn’t really be fixed, not unless one or both of them figured out how. “Cutting’s faster, if you really can’t even untie it.”

“Which do you want?”

He stiffens, in the cock and in his back, then sighs. “Cut me free.”

He recognizes the knife as his own and that shouldn’t get him so turned on. He knows damn well how sharp it is, and also that Vulpes didn’t have enough time to grab it from the indoors toolbox before coming to the bedroom if it was after the shower, which meant Vulpes had planned even this far.

There’s a point where everything will stop turning him on, but he’s hard-pressed in a fairly literal sense to find it. He holds up his wrists and waits to feel the pressure of knife against rope.

“That’s right. Hold still and relax. I won’t cut you.” The voice soothes him even though he doesn’t need it, so it just turns the heat up a bit more instead.

Boone licks his bottom lip, waits for that moment when the final strand of hemp fibers frays enough he can cleanly tug his wrists apart.

Vulpes lifts the knife.

Boone grunts in satisfaction and breaks the rope. He lets it fall to the floor, then turns enough to face Vulpes, presses a kiss to those lips.

Vulpes reaches back towards the nightstand and sets the knife there, before he breaks the kiss and lies back. “Come here.” He pats his hips.

He’s ‘free’. He could easily overpower them before, but now it’s even more obvious. It would serve Vulpes right.

Boone settles his hips so his cock slides against Vulpes’, and he grinds forward. “It’s not even close to Saturday. You’re not going to make it.”

“I went a full week without.”

The emphasis on ‘full’ is enough for him to narrow his eyes and grind himself harder. “You deserved it.”

Vulpes shrugs and reaches up, pulls Boone back into a kiss.

\---~~~---

Boone strokes Vulpes in leisurely tugs. “Just beg, I’d let you come.”

“I did, and you didn’t. Begging won’t work. If you come first, you’re going to get it.”

He knows Vulpes can feel the way he responds to that threat, and he’s thankful Vulpes has the sense to keep quiet.

Vulpes does increase the speed of his own hand though, with a smirk even. A moment later Vulpes leans over and begins to suck.

A few more hours. It’s fine. Everything is fine. Boone tugs Vulpes off and pins him to the bed.

\---~~~---

Boone squeezes his asscheeks, watches that expression shift into so-close-to-coming. Glances at the clock and notes it not much more than an hour from midnight.

Vulpes lifts Boone off and rolls them both over. A moment later, he’s down over Boone’s cock, sucking and pulling at it with a quick fist. He pulls from the head with a smack of his lips and a smirk. “Tick tock, Boone. It’s only a matter of time before you lose and I take what’s mine.”

\---~~~---

Vulpes’ moans above are so good, so fucking good. Boone thrusts up, fills them up to the base, then grinds against his Fox. “Take it.”

“Fuck you, Boone.” Lashes flutter for a moment, before blues show fully and Vulpes pulls off and switches their positions again. Cock in Boone’s mouth, Boone’s in his, Vulpes does exactly what he’d said.

A glance at the clock over the door says it’s nearly midnight. Though, cock in his mouth keeps him from seeing the clock for more than half a second.

Boone reaches up and fingers Vulpes a bit, just to give that extra edge.

Vulpes, bastard he is, spits on two fingers and works them right in, then it’s right back to sucking.

He handles it, he handles it, he--has so much more willpower than Vulpes, normally, but here he loses.

Even when he loses, he wins.

Vulpes swallows it down. Vulpes rises up, curls around so smooth and lies over Boone with a smile draped over his face. He licks a bit of excess come from his bottom lip, then leans into a kiss.

The kiss ends and Vulpes lays elbows onto the bed, holds his chin up once more, like he had in the mud. “I don’t have to tie you this week, do I?” It rings of a statement, though he lets it sit like a question.

“No.”

“Good. Though, I might anyway for the fun of it. I’ll admit, you look good, trussed up just for me.” Fingers curl and stroke at Vulpes’ own soft cheeks, like he just can't keep from touching himself while he ponders the situation.

Boone wants to touch them too.

“We might as well stop pretending either one’s going to leave.”

He considers that. He lets the thought simmer a bit. He nods.

“So you’re mine for at least a week and I won’t have to tie you up for it, can we agree to that?”

It’s reasonable. He can agree to that. “No more bullshit choices.”

Vulpes shrugs, and it makes his face stretch back a bit with the roll of the shoulders and the shifting of the arms. “Fine. Next time I want to take you roughly, I’ll just do it.”

Boone knows Vulpes can feel his reactions. He shrugs though, “Whatever.”

Vulpes releases his own chin and cheeks and lays himself over Boone like a weighted blanket. “I want to fuck you rough _now_ , Boone.”

He swallows and nods.

Vulpes rolls off, leaves the bed entirely. “Bend over the bed and spread your legs wide.”

He does so. He knows it won’t be quite as rough as those first times, but there’s still a chill. A subtle thrill to it.

“Spread your ass, Boone. I want to see what I’m taking, before I remind you just who you belong to.”

His toes dig into the hardwood floors, his fingers dig into his own cheeks and pull the flesh apart. His face he buries into the bedding. His mostly soft cock, he presses into the mattress.

“I love it when you’re actually obedient. It just takes a bit of work getting you there.”

Hours of it, but yes. Boone shuts his eyes and relaxes his body as well as he’s able to when he knows what’s coming.

No fingers prep him first.

Vulpes pushes in fast and hard. With a small mercy, Vulpes holds there, buried deep. Or maybe it’s not mercy. A second later Vulpes’ body presses tightly over his and kisses his shoulder. Bites it. Marks it with deep sucks. “I’m going to come a week’s and a day’s worth inside you. Not just once, but several times. I’m going to make you leak for hours. You’ll never have been so full in your life.”

His cock is hard. He’s fairly certain he’s also never been this hard in his life. He nods quickly and grinds his ass back against them. “Are you just talking, or can I expect a fuck?”

With a grunt, Vulpes pulls free, all but the tip. With a sigh, he slams in. Fingers tug at Boone’s chin and neck, make him look back despite that discomfort. “Why choose, Boone? I know you get off on my voice.”

He scoffs, even as his cock throbs and agrees. “You think a lot of things.”

“And I’m right about a lot of things too.”

Boone clenches his cheeks, feels Vulpes move faster in reward. “Name once.”

A scoff carries on the tail of a moan. “I’m not playing that game right now. When you’re handcuffed to the bed tonight there will be plenty of times to remind you of when you were wrong and I was right.”

“You need… that… long to think…” Of course Vulpes sped up then, made him seem more out of breath. Bastard.

Oh, oh, but he felt it, he felt that twitch and he felt Vulpes come. They kept right on fucking him, even as slickness spread out and worked its way along that heavy cock.

\---~~~---

Outside the rain finally slowed, until it was quiet pings against metal and subdued drops onto the hard ground.

“Then there was the time you didn’t want to spend just a bit more for the quality…” Vulpes, or Fox, or whoever, lay beside him reminded him of all the mistakes. This one was about that ugly set of plates.

He squirmed and shifted but couldn’t escape the wetness. Sore but satisfied, three rounds of sex pooled out of him in a slow drip. “Hey, Fox?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I just save us some time and agree? It’s late and there’s a lot of work to do tomorrow.”

“Like cleaning the front room?” Such an innocent question, with such a smug look.

“Yeah, like cleaning your mess, because you thought it’d be a great idea to fuck in the mud.”

“Don’t even pretend you didn’t find it hot.”

Well. “Yeah, but I wasn’t in charge right then.”

“Fine, whatever helps you sleep. Just admit I’m right.”

“Yep, you’re the rightest right that ever did.”

Vulpes shoves him, but that smirk doesn’t fade until he reaches over and turns the lamp off. “ _Fine._ ”

“Night.” He shifts one last time, finds the best spot for sleep when his hands are chained, then shuts his eyes and lets everything ease into darkness.

“Good night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter, y'all. Are you as fuckin psyched as I am? I might be a good man and post it early because I love you all.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They get a guest!

 

“Keep still, or I put the finger in.” It’s Fox, he’s pretty sure. That voice is almost teasing, even after such a hard smack.

Boone grunts and remains still, despite the urge to shift and struggle a bit. Going against orders isn’t a strong suit of his, even when he wishes it was. 

That next hit strikes harder. It  probably makes his ass pink, if those last ones didn’t. If they did, it’s  probably red.

“Face forward.” The hand clutches his neck, commands him. Forward.

Damn it. He wants to know what it looks like, but fine. He lays still over the kitchen counter, shifts his elbows a bit so they don’t rub too hard in one spot. 

“What did you do?” Vulpes puts a hand between his legs, spreads them.

Fuck. He’s not interested in this part. The question, or the way he’s made to take an exposed stance.

“What did you do, Boone?” Vulpes, it’s  clearly Vulpes here, he holds that hot hand up against Boone’s swollen cheek. 

Boone’s not actually sure though. He can’t think of anything off the top of his head. He’d cooked, and that had gone fine. Fox enjoyed the eggs. He’d done some of the seeding and weeding, right there next to Fox in the dirt. That went fine, especially after the weekend rain. 

He hadn’t done anything. He’d  barely spoken two words, except when asked questions. He hadn’t… Had he done something?  Maybe he said something and it didn’t even register.

He feels them up against his back, feels those arms wrap around his waist and tug his ass backward. “Do you know what you did?”

No? Boone shakes his head.

“I thought not.” There’s such a ringing note of  disappointment there.

Boone hates this. He hates this. 

“That’s a pity. If you don’t confess, I suppose I’ll have to punish you more.” Such a breath, like this is all  just so frustrating _to him_. What a horrible part _of_ _ his day _ it is, punishing Boone.

Then he gets a nip, right there behind his ear, and Boone feels a bit less frustrated. He relaxes  just a bit more. 

“Grab a xander root, slice the skin off and make it smooth, then bring it to me in the bedroom.” Vulpes, or Fox, has an almost soft tone. They pat him on the ass once, definitely soft compared to the other hits, then pivot and leave.

What the fuck would he want xander root in the bedroom for? Boone grunts and nods, but he responds too late for Vulpes to see it. Oh well. 

He doesn’t like shaving the spicy root, he’d prefer to have Fox do that. But fine. He pulls out the paring knife and  quickly shaves all the skin into the compost box next to the trash can. Even though he  normally leaves the task to Fox, he’s done within the minute. It doesn’t look quite as smooth as he sees it most of the time, but that’s fine.  After a few last second slices, he deems his work ready for whatever Vulpes wants it for, he sets the knife into the sink, and he steps towards the bedroom .

They sit, right there on the middle left end of the mattress. There’s a smug smile over their lips and a wicked brightness to their lips. “Let me see that.” He puts a hand out, with fingers that curl so  slightly .

Boone nods and steps forward, puts the root in their hand.

“Mmhmm. Yes.” He motions for Boone to lay over his lap with one hand and brandishes the root like a weapon with the other.

His ‘this is bullshit’ siren goes off, but he listens to Vulpes instead, lies over them. 

“Do you know what you did yet?”

Well, he hadn’t been thinking about  _ other _ things the entire time he was slicing. Still no, though, and he shakes his head.

“Speak, Boone. Use your words,  however few there are.”

He’s pretty used to jabs like that, so he  just shrugs and says, “I don’t know.  Probably nothing, since it’s you.”

A scoff, as though the idea offends. “As though I’d punish you for nothing.”

Yes, yes Vulpes would. But fine. “Then remind me.”

“For one thing, you moved when I told you to be still. The punishment for that is the finger.”

The finger--no! Boone grunts and rolls his hips, attempts to pull his ass away.

“Oh, no, Boone. You’re not escaping this.”  One hand holds at Boone’s back with more strength than it has a right to, while the other pushes the bulb tight against Boone’s ass . “It doesn’t matter if you struggle. The juices are already going in.”

It burns. He’s not exactly torn up inside anymore, but somehow the orange liquid seeps into skin anyway and burns him. Without the cooling broc flower, it  just hurts and makes him squirm and writhe, even as the bulb goes deeper.

He hates them. He’s certain he hates them as deep as that burn, so low in his belly and radiating everywhere else.

Boone pants and clutches the sheets.  He faces forward and does his best to keep still, despite how he wants to rock his hips back and forth, push the root out, forces Vulpes down into the mattress… fuck them silly .

His cock leaks against a thigh and he knows they notice, but he hopes--

“You’re such a painslut.  I used to feel guilty getting off on things, but you  really have me beat when it comes to masochistic tendencies, Boone .” He begins to work the root, in and out, he fucks Boone with it. “ Just admit you enjoy it.”

Nope. 

“Don’t be so stubborn, Boone.”

“Fuck off, Vulpes.”

“Well, now that’s earned another punishment.” Vulpes sounds delighted, in the smear of smugness only his voice can carry.

He partly expects to  be pushed to the middle of the mattress and fucked hard. His cock  certainly expects that.

Instead, Vulpes spanks him again, bumps the root  just a bit deeper, but not enough it goes in. It’s not one smack though, it’s several successive and  increasingly painful hits. “Do you think you can get away with talking to me like that?”

“ Obviously not.”

“You’re so mouthy. So few words and you still wield them like a petulant little boy.”

He hopes all that wetness on their thigh makes Vulpes chafe. He hopes they’re so uncomfortable every single time he rubs his cock against them. They deserve it.

“Look at what a little slut you are, taking every hit and loving it. Was that a moan?”

No. Yes. He moans again when they hit hard. He grinds forward and clutches the sheets.

“In truth, I only spanked you at first because I know you enjoy it and I  certainly enjoy doing it.” 

He feels several more hits before that processes  fully .  In between moans, the asks, “Wait, why did you… ask if I know… what I did?”

“Because you moved. I told you to be still, or you’d get the finger. Are you that simple, you don’t understand?”

Both sets of cheeks are  probably flush from the spanks and from the insults in that silky voice. He grunts and stiffens  just a bit, despite how that makes more of the spicy root affect him. It hurts still, but it’s not as intense as it started. It’s deeper, richer, more… fuck he likes it. He hates that.

“You’re so hard, aren’t you?“

He’s  obviously hard. Vulpes would have to be braindead to not feel how hard he is. But he knows what they want. 

“What do you want, Boone?”

This is a trick, it’s a trap.”I want you to hurry up and actually do something.”

“I am doing something. Should I do something else?”

Why is Vulpes like this? What had Boone done to earn such feigned ignorance? Nothing. Vulpes is a dick. “Take that root out.”

“Mmm. And then what?” Vulpes doesn’t take it out, he  just pushes the bulbous little plant in, then tugs it back out a bit.

In and out, in and out, and Boone can  just picture how his ass  probably stretches and puckers around it. He does picture it and he grinds against Vulpes’ leg. “Fuck me.”

It’s needier sounding than he likes. Actually, he hadn’t meant to say it at all, but here he is.

He almost feels loss. The root leaves and he’s empty.

Vulpes pushes Boone, forces him to the center of the bed. “Ass up, Boone.”

He rises to his knees, presses his face to the pillow. Fingers curl and claw at the sheets. He can feel his hole tighten and release, ready, anticipating.

Vulpes steps to the nightstand on his side of the bed, and tugs out a small bowl. “Will you be still next time I ask you to be?”

He’s not sure what’s in the bowl. He wants to know. “Yeah.”

Vulpes brings it closer. It’s a clear paste with a slight blue tinge. “Good boy. Then I suppose I’ll use this.”

“What is it?”

“Crushed broc flowers.” He takes his own length out in short order, sets the bowl down, brings up some of the paste, and slicks his cock with it. “They’re better baked with the roots, but they work this way  just fine.” He lines his head up with Boone’s asshole. 

Boone inhales, then does a slow count.  Just relax, and it always feels better. Breathe.

“Spread your legs more.”

He does so, feels the mattress shift beneath him in a quiet squeak of springs. 

“Good.” Pleased, Vulpes pushes in, the head at first, but soon the whole length slides its way inside.

That intense burn that had worked its way through his hole into his whole body, it fades a bit, turns to an unplaceable intensity instead .  With every thrust, Boone focuses less on the pain and more on the way Vulpes fills him, claims him, seems to massage his everywhere with only his cock and curled fingers .

“Do you like it?”

It’s his own question, with a twist back to Boone. He’s not sure he appreciates it, but he answers, “Yeah.”

“Tell me what it feels like.”

How is he supposed to describe it when it’s happening? His brain’s unfocused. He’s unfocused. All he can feel is how-- Vulpes stops. Damn it. “It  _ felt _ like a massage.” A  really strange one, and now he wants that back.

Vulpes kisses Boone’s right shoulder. “Is that so?” He begins again with short thrusts, ones that don’t manage to go very deep. “How else does it feel?”

It’s one thing that Vulpes and Fox get off to their own voice. It’s quite another, thank you, that they expect Boone to talk when he wants to just be fucked. “Good. It feels really good.” Fuck them.

“Do you want it deep, Boone?”

“Yeah.” Please do it. Now.

“Mmm. No.” Vulpes pulls out.

He’ll kill them, he swears he will. But then he feels a tug back. He turns and sees Vulpes on his back, cock jutting up, smile on that face. 

Vulpes pats his dick. “Come ride me.”

It’s not subtle but he doesn’t care. He goes right over and impales himself in a second. There’s no gentle descent, no steady lowering. He’s not a virgin and he doesn’t have time for bullshit. Boone lifts up, then slams himself back down, until his ass rocks against hips.

“Admit it. You get off at least as much when I’m the one inside you.” Fingers clutch Boone’s hips, guide him  superficially .

“Nope.”

“So you don’t?” Nails dig into Boone’s skin, whether in warning or surprise is anyone’s guess.

“Didn’t say that.” He leans in, faces Vulpes full on. “I’m  just not admitting it.”

They scoff, even roll their eyes. “Too proud to admit it?”

“No. I’d  just prefer your cock to you being cocky.” He grinds down, rolls his hips. 

Vulpes moans now, parts his lips so  nicely . “Si-since when am--”

“You’re already cocky when I’m in charge. I’m not encouraging it.”

“Coming from you.” Those nails still dig, but it's more pleasant for both of them it seems.

Boone reaches down, catches Vulpes’ wrists. “Yeah. Coming from me. You better not come before I do.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll chain you up and fuck you hard, Vulpes. I’ll finish inside you all night long, and you won’t be able to do shit about it.”

Vulpes whines and bucks up a few short thrusts. “Fuck you, Boone. I’m in charge.”

“There’s been a change in management.” He’s almost positive he felt the telltale twitches, he’s almost certain Vulpes  just came.  It’s hard to tell when he’s still tingling inside and everything reaches a different level of sensation than he’s used to .

Even if Vulpes didn’t come right then, Boone grips those wrists tight and pins them to the bed. “You’d like that too much. If I  just pinned you down and took you hard. That’s all you  really need. A good cock, rooted right inside you.”

Definitely Vulpes came. If not then, now. 

Boone smirks. “I knew it.”

Vulpes doesn’t struggle when Boone positions him back to the head of the bed, puts Vulpes on a pillow, and chains up one of those wrists . He doesn’t struggle, he  just squirms and pants and has that look the begs for it.

Boone obliges. He bites at their throat, then coats it in kisses and softer nibbles. He lifts up their legs, puts them over his shoulders, and he spreads a bit of the paste over his cock. Other times, he might prep them, get them so slick and ready, but here he doesn’t. He slides right in, so smooth, and feels how their warmth coats the cooling paste, envelops his cock.

Bright eyes shut and pale white teeth show between parted lips. Vulpes, or Fox, they tilt their head back and spread their legs a bit more. “It took you long enough to take control.”

“Oh, you wanted that?” He knew it though, Fox liked it.

A snort. “I didn’t say I wanted it.  Just that I expected it sooner. You’re such a…” Grunts, a soft moan. “You’re…”

“I’m what?” He rolls his hips, feels them as deep as he’s able to go, then pushes his pelvis a bit more so he’s flush against their ass. 

“Stubborn. Controlling.”

“Isn’t that what you like?” He pulls back, feels his head almost pop free.

Vulpes tightens his ankles, grips Boone between strong legs. “ I might enjoy it, on occasion.”

Boone snorts. “If you say so.” He slams back in, enjoys the cry he pulls from pretty lips. Enjoys that cry even more when he kisses it from those same lips.

They’re both well and  thoroughly fucked, in body and mind.

He pulls free from the kiss with that thought, looks at those bright eyes beneath him. 

This  is fucked .

Boone presses his forehead to Fox’s. To Vulpes’. “You’re  mine. ”

They nod.

He nods. This  is fucked .

He finishes inside them and lays over them, still rooted inside  fully . 

\---~~~---

Killinger sits upright, a shy smile over his face. “This place  really is nice. Did you paint the living room?” He lifts the fork, though seems uncertain. He watches to see if they do too.

Fox nods and raised his own fork. “We did.” He smirks over at Boone. “Well,  mostly me. Boone was ‘busy’.”

He snorts. “Yeah. I had work to do.”  He’d  been chained to the bed with a root in his ass and Vulpes had gone and painted it a  _ terrible _ peachy color when he had  specifically said not to . But that was fine. Vulpes got his after.

“Well, it looks great!” Killinger finally raises the fork up when Boone does, and takes that first bite. 

“Thank you. _I agree_.” Another smirk, even between bites. Fox looks right up at Boone, and the words are clear even if they’re unspoken.

Fuck you too, Fox. Vulpes. Whatever. Boone grins though and takes a bite of the eggs and broc flower omelet. 

“Oh man, this is good.” Killinger’s so open, so sweet. He doesn’t belong and he doesn’t seem to know it.  Certainly , neither Boone nor Fox would tell him that though; he’s a good guest. “Thank you for letting me stay here.” 

“Of course. How long’s your leave again?” Fox tilts his head, works the question so  innocently .

“Oh,  just a few days. I would go back home, but uh, it wasn’t long enough for me to get there and back and do anything more than sleep. I’m sorry that I  just came right ov--”

“Perish the thought that it’s a problem. Boone and I love your company.” He looks over. He hides behind a glass of water, but it doesn’t hide his amused blue eyes.

“ Absolutely .” Boone had  been chained when Killinger knocked. His wrists bound to the bedposts, Fox had finished inside him and dressed  quickly to see who was there. He’d been so quiet, listened so  intently to hear who it was.

Boone flushes a bit and sips his own glass of water. He sets it down and nods to the lanky younger man, “I hope you’re comfortable on the couch.”

“Oh, I will be! I’ve slept on worse. Not that it’s bad! It feels pretty comfortable to sit on.”

It feels pretty comfortable to fuck and  be fucked on too. He knows he’s not the only one who thinks it, he sees that same look on Fox’s face. Boone pushes the thought away, wipes it like the napkin on his lips. “If you let us know next time, we can prepare better.”

Killinger nods, but he blushes a bit in that rich plum color, he looks as sheepish as he ever does. “Sorry about that. It was kind of spur of the moment. I had time, they told me to take it, but I didn’t quite have enough to do much else. If it’s a problem--”

“It’s not.” It could have been.  He considers how bad it would have been if Killinger walked up when Vulpes had him on his knees, rope collar tight around his neck, handcuffs around his wrists . He’d sucked cock right in front of the maize.

The guys down at the base already knew Fox and him  were involved . Everyone knew it. He doesn’t care about that. But damn it, some things should be private.

Though, if Killinger walked up when he had Fox pressed tight to the shed siding, he might not mind. That, that could be good.

Not that. No, he doesn’t want that. That’s not right. Killinger isn’t involved in all this.

This is between him and Fox. And Vulpes. It’s between him and them.

Fox hooks ankles with Boone and glances over. “It’s not a problem for me either. We  just want you to be comfortable when you visit.”

“This place is plenty comfy. It’s really homey. You two are… just really nice, good people.”

He laughs. He nods to cover it, like he agrees. He doesn’t, but Killinger is too innocent to let in on the joke. “Thanks. We try.”

“Oh, we  certainly do.”

Killinger has that happy little smile he gets  in between bites and it never fades. It never shows that he might know. He finishes his omelet fast and rises. “I can do dishes, if that’s ok. I don’t wanna put you two out.”

“No, it’s Boone’s turn, you’re the guest. You should relax.”

Boone’s turn. Yeah, it’s his turn in general. He accepts, and rises to take all the cleared dishes. “We’ve got some cards. You two could play while I do these.”

“Oh, I love cards!” He’s as excited about that as he is about anything else, and Killinger immediately nods. 

“Watch Fox though. He cheats.”

“Hardly! It’s not my fault you’ve got abysmal strategy.” Fox stomps towards the living room, but in that playful way. There’s  just enough laughter in his tone, that it’s ok.

“Mmhmm. Whatever you say, Fox.” He smirks and starts the dishwater.

“You two are hilarious.” He means it, and that little chipped tooth shows, the grin is so wide. “I hope I can find someone like you found each other.”

He breaks a dish, but it’s fine. He doesn’t like that dish anyway. Fox has terrible choices in colors. It’s gaudy and ugly. Of course, there are nine other plates that are exactly as terrible, but they can stay. 

“Let me help--”

“It’s ok.” He removes the ceramic from the deep steel sink, puts it into the trash next to the compost. “ Just go play cards.”

Fox pulls Killinger along. Fox has that same look Boone felt a moment before.

Then Fox laughs and begins to shuffle and Boone smiles and begins to clean the dishes and Killinger is happy again and chatty next to Fox on the couch .

This is fine. He cleans the dishes and listens to their chatter and this is definitely fine.

Hours later, when Killinger is finally asleep, Vulpes returns.

Vulpes presses Boone's face to bed, and takes Boone hard.

Boone pants and moans but keeps his everything down so much lower than usual.

“That’s right, Boone. Be good and quiet. You wouldn’t want our sweet young guest to hear how much of a whore you are.” It’s a brutal whisper, right against his left ear.

That shouldn’t get him up. It  really shouldn’t.  Maybe a year ago, it wouldn’t have.  Maybe not. He doesn’t  really remember.

Boone bites his bottom lip until he stains his teeth pink. 

Vulpes grinds deeper, forces himself further. “I saw you, you filthy depraved slut. I know you had dirty thoughts at dinner.”

He wasn’t alone in those thoughts, and he knows it, but he keeps quiet. He doesn’t think he can keep his voice down if he talks. Usually, by this point, he’s so far gone he’s loud enough to get the birds scattering.

Vulpes bites him, right on the throat. It’ll leave a mark. They both know it will.

Boone comes right into the bedding, he can’t help it. He clutches Vulpes’ cock tight and rolls out his orgasm with soft pants and moans.

Vulpes isn’t that far behind. He lays there over Boone, holds him, covers him. “ You’re mine.”

He nods.  He nods and nods and shivers with delight when those fingers soothe their way all along his ribs and spine, touch him everywhere  just right .

Fox rolls over and grabs a book from his nightstand. It’s something or another he picked out a few weeks before. 

Boone scoots up a bit closer, turns onto his back, and reads along with.

He reads about Victorian England and their  apparent focus on… oh. It explains, immediately, where the xander root punishment came from. He wonders,  absently , if ginger and that root  are related . The burning of a ‘gingering’ sounds an awful lot like how he’d felt with the xander root.

He can hear soft snores in the living room. They sound a bit louder than they’d began a half hour before. He’s  fairly certain they’re forced. He’s almost positive Killinger is awake and faking it.

Fox smirks, like he knows it too. He turns the page and glances over. “He  really is sweet, isn’t he?”

He huffs. “Yeah.”

“Imagine how it must be, to look at us and see a life goal.”

He snorts. “Yeah. I did. Then the plate broke.”

“That’s alright. You’ll buy me a new one.”

“I shouldn’t have bought you the set in the first place.”

“I know. You can’t buy good taste, but I still try with you.”

He shoves them further onto their side of the bed. “They’re ugly.”

“Oh Boone. You have terrible taste.”

“I know, that’s why I’m with you.”

Vulpes smacks him with the book, sets it on the nightstand with a thunk, and rolls back over Boone. “I should make you scream for that.”

He arches a brow.

“But I won’t. I’m  just going to remember everything you do between now and when he leaves. You’ll get it all back, ten-fold.”

Well, he’s spent for the night and feeling quite sticky for it, but that doesn’t mean his cock can’t twitch. Boone grins. “Is that right? Well fine. I’ll do the same.”

“Please. I haven’t done anything.”

_ “Mhm.” _

_ “Mhm.” _

Fox settles in over Boone, rests his head on Boone’s shoulder. “Good night.”

“Good night.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're not good people. 
> 
> They do have a pretty cool looking house though. Killinger is totally jealous.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sorry, I'm not sorry, I'm not sorry...
> 
> (I'm only a little sorry.)


End file.
